


Pussy Magnet (or: How Harry Styles Learned to Embrace Sitting Down to Pee)

by leici, pianoforeplay



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, F/M, Genderswap, M/M, Sexswap, Some infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-11
Updated: 2014-06-11
Packaged: 2018-02-04 05:40:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 52,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1767532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leici/pseuds/leici, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pianoforeplay/pseuds/pianoforeplay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Harry loses his penis and the lads do their best to get it back. </p><p>Set during the X Factor Tour in 2011 and with a handful of original characters strategically placed as we lack both the energy and ability required to research the boys' entire management team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pussy Magnet (or: How Harry Styles Learned to Embrace Sitting Down to Pee)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to a cardboard cut-out of Niall and the 'This Is Us' DVD coming out just in time for Christmas, these five singing idiots have inspired us to co-write our first fic in nearly a decade. Hooray! Neither of us expected it to top fifty thousand freaking words, but best laid plans and all that. Anyway, a massive, massive thank you goes to froggie for her wonderful and hilarious beta. All remaining typos, misspellings, and grammatical errors are all ours.

"Jesus, Haz," Louis groans, the side of his face smashed into the pillow as Harry crumples against him, heart still thudding wildly. Harry feels weighted and loose both at once, muscles still trembling, and only easing back to slip free when Louis gives a rather insistent nudge of his elbow.

With a heavy sigh, Harry drops to the empty space beside Louis on the bed, stretches out his cramping muscles as Louis shifts around with his own quiet moan.

"That... that was good, right?" Harry asks, his voice a little high and breathless. Now that the haze of _good good good oh god so good_ is starting to settle, the nerves are kicking in again. And, while there isn't a doubt in his mind Louis will take the piss out of him for coming way too soon, Harry still can't help but ask. 

"How should I know?" Louis replies with a low laugh, the clear _happiness_ in his voice helping calm Harry just a bit. "Not like I've really done this before either, mate. Like this, I mean, obviously, I've _done_ it, but not..."

Smiling to himself, Harry nods and pulls in a breath as he closes his eyes. "Right. Not with a boy, yeah."

It comes out weird though, catching on the end as Harry really _hears_ himself, his voice oddly high and soft in way that doesn't seem natural.

He opens his mouth to try again, but cuts off short as a wave of pain rolls through him. It's not exactly excruciating, reminds him a little of a year or so ago when he hit his first growth spurt and would wake in the middle of the night with pains in his legs. It's like that, but multiplied by about five. And all over. Everywhere. From head to toe.

It's over in a matter of moments, washing away as quickly as it had arrived and leaving him panting and sore. 

And not a little bit terrified.

This may well be Harry's first time having, like, actual penetrative sex or whatever, but he's thought about it a lot up to now. He's read things and seen things, on the internet and in movies and stuff. He's _studied_ , really. And nothing, not _one thing_ , ever mentioned anything like this.

"What the bloody hell?"

Louis' voice is sharp, echoing Harry's thoughts exactly as their eyes meet. But Louis is looking at him like Harry's sprouted a second head or something, his previously (gorgeously) flushed face suddenly draining of all color as he scurries backward off the bed, nearly tripping in the process. Hurriedly grabbing a piece of clothing off the floor, he holds it in front of himself, his other hand pointed at Harry, eyes accusing. 

"Is this-- What's happening? Harry! _What is happening??_ "

It's only when Harry finally sits up that he realizes the cause of Louis' hysteria. Because his chest moves.

His chest fucking _moves_.

Harry drops onto his back again instantly, head lifted to stare at the _breasts_ that have magically appeared on his body. There's really no other word for them. Breasts. Boobs. Jubblies. Tits. _He has tits what the holy fuck_.

It's his turn to scramble then, feet shoving at the bedding until he knocks his back into the headboard rather painfully. Of course that's when he notices it isn't just his chest that's changed, but _everything_. His legs are slimmer, thighs a little thicker, his knees aren't so knobby, and his hips are wider. 

But, worst of all, his penis is gone. Entirely. He even checks, patting down between his thighs with one hand like maybe it's just hiding.

But no.

No, it's gone. Well and truly.

And that's when Harry passes out.

Of course, he doesn't realize that's what's happened until he's being slapped awake by Louis who's returned to the bed, one hand sort of squeezing Harry's left cheek as he steadily taps at the right one. He looks just as frantic as before, but there's something a little softer there as Harry meets his gaze.

"Louis?"

It comes out sort of weak and quiet and still way, _way_ too high. He cringes, turning his head into Louis' shoulder.

"Shh, it's okay," Louis replies, shifting beside him, one hand sinking into Harry's hair, soothing in a way Harry's never really seen from him before.

It's nice, actually. Harry thinks he might better appreciate it if he still had a penis.

"This is really not okay," he says instead, almost laughing at the suggestion. Almost.

"Well, it could be worse."

" _Worse?_ "

Louis shifts to hold him tighter and, though Harry isn't really sure, he thinks Louis maybe even kisses the top of his head before murmuring, "You look quite fit."

Snorting a laugh, Harry punches Louis in the side, but he does relax a little further. After all, Louis isn't completely wrong; being a girl is hardly the worst thing in the world. But he's still incredibly confused. Which is probably normal for someone whose entire body just turned into some other body in the span of a few seconds. Surely he can't be blamed for being alarmed.

"We'll have to tell the lads."

Though it's not untrue, Harry cringes all the same. "Uhm. Pretty sure they'll notice."

"No, I mean soon. Maybe right now?"

Harry's frown deepens and he cranes his head to look past Louis' shoulder. "It's three in the morning. Maybe... maybe it'll wear off."

Louis shrugs and there's something just a little off in the way he's looking at Harry now. The fond little smile Harry's grown accustomed to over the past several months is gone, replaced by something a bit more… well, _forced_ , is the only word Harry can think to describe it. Unnatural somehow. 

"Even if it does, I refuse to be the only one who sees this," Louis says, and that uncomfortable feeling in Harry's gut twists sharply.

"You're joking."

"No one'll ever believe me if I don't show proof!"

"I'm not some _circus freak_ , Louis!" Harry grumbles, full-on shoving him now. But the way Louis laughs manages to calm him a little, a common reaction to the sound of Louis' laughter.

So when Louis wraps his hand around Harry's wrist and gives a particularly rough tug, Harry doesn't fight it.

"Ugh, come on!" he says, pulling on Harry as he gets to his feet. "If nothing else, we absolutely _must_ catch the look on Liam's face when he sees you."

Harry does actually manage a small laugh at that, though it falters slightly as he very nearly falls flat on his face while attempting to stand. Luckily, Louis is close enough to catch him, brow furrowed in concern.

"Hey, you alright?"

"Dunno," Harry admits, closing his eyes against the way the floor seems to dip and sway beneath his feet. He almost feels drunk, or like he's just been spinning round and round in a circle.

With a careful hand, Louis guides him to sit on the edge of the bed and Harry immediately leans forward, resting his head on his hands as he blinks his eyes open. He still feels dizzy, but it's easier to handle like this and, after pulling in a slow, steady breath, he sits up straight. Glancing up, he catches Louis frowning down at him, his expression a mixture of concern and something closer to fear as his eyes dart from Harry's shoulders to his chest and then lower before flicking up again to meet Harry's gaze.

"This is really not normal, Haz," he says as though it's really just occurred to him. "Those are actual boobies."

Harry laughs, a short, sort of hysterical sound as he scrubs a hand along his jaw. "Thanks for noticing."

Louis' face is still drawn in a frown, and he hesitates for a second before settling his hand on Harry's bare shoulder and squeezing. The smile he tries to give Harry then is clearly forced, but Harry does his best to return it as he reaches up to cradle a breast in each hand.

"They're quite lovely, at least," he says, which is apparently enough to make Louis huff a quick laugh.

"Yes, they're exquisite."

"You did say I look fit."

Louis rolls his eyes, but the small smile on his lips is slightly more comforting, and Harry slowly gets to his feet again, wobbling just a little as he takes a few steps forward. He doesn't miss the way Louis' smile falters as he gets closer, or the way Louis quickly ducks away toward his opened suitcase.

"No way you're fitting into your own clothes like this," he says. He pulls out a t-shirt and tosses it Harry's way. "Take this."

It's probably weird the way Harry's stomach does a little flip at the idea of wearing Louis' clothes, but he puts the shirt on with no resistance and frowns down at the way it doesn't smooth over his chest like he's used to, the peaks of his two primary nipples clearly visible through the fabric. Louis has tugged on a pair of trackies when he glances up again, and there's a high flush to his cheeks Harry might ordinarily attribute to him being turned on.

Somehow he doesn't think that's the case this time.

Louis' gaze again sort of darts over him, not settling in any one place for very long before he takes a quick breath and nods.

"Alright," he says with a determined air. "Let's go scare the piss out of Payno."

:::

Liam's a light sleeper, probably because he's got a bit of an anxious streak, and also because sharing a room with Niall means being ready to be pranked at a moment's notice. It's worse tonight because he's actually sharing a bed with the aforementioned prankster, who also seems to be incapable of breathing through his nose like a normal person.

And, okay, maybe it has just a little to do with Zayn. It's not that Zayn's noisy; he's actually the quietest, stillest sleeper Liam's ever encountered. It's that Zayn is way across the room sleeping on a little rollaway cot, and Liam can't stop straining to hear him breathe, or move. He just feels so much more comfortable when he can hear Zayn, or see him; hotels are so cold and sterile and Liam has a hard time sleeping in them. Having Zayn beside him in bed is calming in a way Liam can't describe, and while it was quite sweet of Zayn to give Niall a real bed for a night, Liam is suffering the consequences.

So Liam's essentially awake when there's a knock at the door, and he sits bolt upright in bed like he's been electrocuted. But he doesn't get up, not right away. Louis answered the door in the middle of the night once and it turned out to be a naked, drunk man who had the wrong room. There's no way Liam's subjecting himself to that.

But a few seconds later there's another knock, more insistent this time, followed by the sound of Louis' voice hissing, "Liam! Answer the door you massive git."

As much as he doesn't want to let Louis boss him around, Liam slips out of bed. If nothing else he needs to keep Louis from making a scene and getting them tossed out of the hotel. Again.

He just barely manages to stifle a curse when he trips over something sharp and pointy. Bending to find the offending object, Liam picks up the stupid cross thing Zayn bought in Belfast a couple weeks ago. Scowling, he sets it atop the dresser where, hopefully, it won't cause any further damage. He's still limping a bit when he gets to the door, not bothering to check to see who might be on the other side. He has a whole string of grousing ready on his tongue, but it all dies quickly when he sees Louis isn't alone.

"Who's this?" Liam asks, glad he's wearing proper pajamas and not just his underpants.

"Long story," is Louis' answer, and he pushes into the room, dragging a thin, pale girl wearing one of Louis' t-shirts in behind him. Liam turns to object when the girl stumbles a bit, catching herself heavily on Louis' arm.

"Steady, Haz," Louis tells her, patting her shoulder.

"Who's 'at?" Niall asks, sitting sleepily in the bed, hair sticking up all over his head.

"Shut the door, Liam," Louis instructs instead of answering.

"I most certainly will not," Liam counters, because he's not going to just let some girl into his room, not without an explanation.

Louis turns and levels Liam with a look. "Shut the door," he repeats, his tone warning. "This is a… delicate matter."

Liam blanches. Oh god, Louis has gone and gotten himself in trouble, picking up some stranger who is planning to blackmail him or something. He's torn between wanting to hit Louis over the head and ripping into this girl for using one of his friends, but he goes to close the door anyway, his shoulders squared as he rejoins them in the center of the room.

"Okay, out with it," he tells Louis, and the girl standing next to him looks a little offended, like Liam should be addressing _her_ as well. "What's going on, Lou?"

Louis turns to look at the girl, some kind of nonverbal communication going on between them. They seem extremely familiar with one another, and it it makes Liam strangely uneasy.

"This…" Louis starts, then shakes his head, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. "This is Harry."

"She's called Harry?" Niall muses, and Liam wonders the same thing, but he also has a bad feeling that's not quite what Louis means.

"No, _he's_ called Harry," Louis corrects, scowling at Niall like he's not paying attention. "This is Harry. _Our_ Harry."

Liam blinks, feeling utterly unsettled. "What are you playing at?" he asks Louis, and the girl standing next to him makes a unhappy, frustrated noise.

"He's not playing at anything," she says, her tone just a little cold, catching Liam's attention. "I'm Harry. It's me."

Looking at her, Liam feels a little odd. Her eyes are huge and emerald green, her dark curls swept across her forehead just as Harry wears his. She really does look uncannily like Harry would if he were a girl. 

"This is a joke," Liam states, glancing at Niall for agreement. But Niall's just staring like he's watching something on telly, and Zayn, predictably, is still sound asleep. "You found a girl who looks like Harry and you're playing a prank on me."

"For fuck's sake," Louis swears, rolling his eyes. "There are a dozen other ways I could prank you that wouldn't take nearly as much effort and have a much better pay off," he goes on. "I don't know what's happened, but this is Harry. One minute he was a boy and the next…" Louis gives the girl a poke in the chest. "Boobs."

The girl scowls and knocks Louis' hand away with a quiet, "Hey! Manners."

Considering her carefully, Liam can't deny she _does_ resemble Harry a great deal. She has the same mouth and set to her jaw, the same dark look in her eyes Harry would use in a moment like this.

"Prove it," Niall finally weighs in, still sitting in bed. "Tell us something only Harry would know."

Liam nods in Niall's direction. "Yes, tell us something only Harry would know," he repeats, addressing the girl. She seems irritated, crossing her arms over her chest awkwardly.

"Fine," she says, her eyes shifting like she's trying to come up with a reply. Liam's pretty sure she's going to answer with some tidbit he's seen on some fansite or another, facts about them that are hardly ever true, or a fragment from an interview. He's starting to feel a little smug when she finally seems to land on something, a smile curving her lips.

"Alright," she says, clearly hiding a smirk. "When we stayed at my dad's bungalow you got a hard-on when you were wrestling with Zayn in the pool."

Liam's mouth drops open and there's a ringing silence in the room for a handful of seconds until it's broken by a suddenly loud gaffaw from Niall. "I remember that!" he announces, and Liam feels his face go hot, the memory of that day flooding back like a rush and making him feel ashamed all over again.

"Convinced?" Louis asks him with a smirk, and the girl – Harry – is still grinning at him triumphantly.

Liam shakes his head, feeling underwater, and he wonders if maybe he's actually just had an aneurysm and this is all a hallucination. An insane, very vivid hallucination. "Fuck," he finally sighs, dropping his head. "How the hell did this happen?"

:::

Harry's hit with a wave of relief intense enough to nearly knock him over. Then again, he's been strangely off balance since Louis dragged him out of bed, so it could just be more of that. All the same, he smiles widely as he glances over at Louis.

They haven't told anyone about what's been going on between them, but Harry's often wondered if the lads might have an idea. It's not like he and Louis are particularly subtle a lot of the time. There is, naturally, an inkling of worry that they might not approve, that they might be afraid of it mucking up the band if things go wrong. But even after only a few months Harry, trusts them more than just about anyone else he knows. And, honestly, there's really no reason to be ashamed.

So an easy, 'Lou and I were having a shag,' seems fine enough to lay out there, but Louis beats him to it.

"He was with a girl."

Harry's smile falls away as he glances over at Louis, confused. 

Louis doesn't even look his way as he continues, gaze locked on Liam's. "Pretty thing. Snuck her up here. She's gone now, don't worry about anything, mate. All taken care of."

"She's _gone_?" Liam remarks, clearly displeased. "You can't– We need her to sign forms! Non-disclosure agreements! She'll go straight to the paps, Louis, are you _insane_?"

"Hey, it's fine," Harry interjects immediately, keeping his voice calm as he ignores the tight clench in his stomach, his hand held up to Liam, palm out. "Seriously. She didn't see anything. I went to the loo before it, you know. Happened. Called Louis. He took care of it."

"You called Louis from the toilet?" Liam wants to know, and Harry can't tell if he's still suspicious or still just reeling from the whole thing.

" _Liam_ ," Louis says sharply before Harry can further the lie. "Can you please just trust me? Just this once? I promise, if I was worried about some girl running to the paps you'd be the first to know. Can we focus on the real issue now? Like the fact that our dear Harold is now a soprano."

"Might be an alto," Harry says after a second's consideration. "Haven't really tried yet."

"Oh god, we have to tell Simon," Liam says then, his eyes widening with what Harry can only describe as horror.

Louis shakes his head. "We are _not_ telling Simon."

"He'll be able to figure it out quick enough, don't you think?" Niall says, sitting cross-legged now on the bed, hands tucked in his lap. "Along with everyone else. I mean, no offense Harry, but your boobs are pretty, eh... prominent."

Harry again glances down at his chest, the fabric of Louis' t-shirt falling neatly over his newly formed breasts. He has to admit, they do look pretty nice. 

"None taken," he says, grinning in gratitude. Niall laughs in return, his cheeks going a little pink.

"We are not telling Simon," Louis repeats, more firmly.

"We have a show in _three days_ , Lou," Liam argues. "We can't go on stage like this! Obviously!"

"And you think telling Simon will change any of that?" Louis argues right back, leaving Harry's side to step closer to Liam, head tilted back to meet Liam's taller stature. Despite the situation, despite the growing knot of guilt developing in his belly, Harry finds that really very hot. "He's not fuckin' _Dumbledore_. It's not like he'll have any better idea!"

"It could wear off by morning," Harry says in the brief space of quiet. 

"Could," Niall agrees from the bed and, once again, Harry feels enormously grateful for his presence. "I'm with Louis. No need to involve anyone else 'til we get this sorted ourselves."

Liam practically glares at Niall then, and Harry's pretty sure he sees a twitch in his jaw before he returns his attention to Harry. Harry barely refrains from taking a step backward under the weight of it.

"Fine," he says, Liam's voice low but biting. "No talking to Simon. But you probably better not leave your room," he tells Harry. "Louis can bring you food or drinks, whatever. No posting on Twitter either. We'll tell everyone you're ill with stomach flu or something. Under no circumstances is anyone else allowed in here but the five of us. Alright?"

Harry frowns. It sounds wholly unappealing if he's completely honest. He hasn't been to London in months now. He _loves_ London.

But this is their career on the line, their entire futures. And he's still hopeful, however foolish it may be, that it really will wear off by morning. So he holds back his protests with a simple nod.

Liam studies him for a long moment, as though he's half expecting Harry to have his fingers crossed behind his back, before finally giving his own nod and looking to Louis. "If this isn't cleared up by tomorrow, I'm implementing a deadline."

"Yes, _Daddy_ ," Louis says, though his tone this time isn't nearly as nasty. He steps back and slings an arm around Harry's waist. "Like you said, we've got three days. That's plenty of time to get it all sorted."

It's false optimism, Harry knows. There's no way Louis can have any better idea than the rest of them. Still, the comfort feels nice, and Harry lets himself cling to it, leaning into Louis' warmth.

Liam doesn't look nearly so convinced. He waves a hand.

"Whatever, just – go back to bed," he suggests, looking exhausted and frayed. "Maybe if we sleep, we'll wake up tomorrow and find this has all been just an incredibly realistic and terrifying dream."

"Wha'?" comes a groggy voice from the other side of the room. "Wha'ssa dream?"

Harry stifles a laugh when he sees Zayn's familiar coif peaking up from beneath the bedding of his cot.

Louis snorts. "Mate, you have the best timing."

:::

Liam doesn't manage to get any more sleep at all.

Niall does, his snoring picking back up a few minutes after the lights go out, but Liam can't turn his brain off. He's a problem-solver, has been since he was little. He likes to fix things, maintain harmony, make sure everyone and everything is okay. Maybe that's where his tendency to mother people comes from, his cautious nature.

But this situation isn't like anything he's come up against before. He's felt helpless in the past, has been at a loss at what to do, but this is _Harry_ , one of his boys. Not only does Liam feel somehow responsible for figuring this out, his future (not to mention the futures of four of his best mates) is tied up in what's happening here. If it turns out to be permanent, if Harry's a girl now forever, One Direction is over. There's no way they can continue without Harry, no way anyone would _want_ to.

There are no answers for this. Liam considers shaking Harry down for the identity of the girl he was with, because maybe she's put a voodoo curse on him, or given him some kind of rare STD that no one's heard of before. Those theories are just about as believable as anything else he can come up with, which is to say _not_. It's like the plot of a soap opera, or some of that weird Japanese anime Zayn watches. In those situations something mystical or, like, medical is involved, and there's always a similar way out.

Also this is _reality_ , not a sci-fi movie. He's not sleeping anyway, so Liam gets up and takes his laptop to the bathroom to do some research, but two and a half hours of Google searching doesn't do anything but give him a screaming headache. He doesn't realize that it's gone from middle of the night to early morning until Zayn comes into the room half asleep to pee and basically trips over Liam where he's propped against the side of the bathtub. He stumbles but manages to catch himself, yelping as he bangs his shin against the toilet in the process.

"Fucking hell, Liam," he breathes once he figures out what he's fallen over. "What're you doin' down there?"

"Googling," Liam replies, looking up at Zayn from the floor. "Sorry. I came in here because I didn't want to wake Niall."

"Nah, s'okay," Zayn replies, his manner as easygoing as always. He turns away, careful to not step on Liam's feet as he tugs his jogging bottoms down a bit so he can take a piss. Liam's beyond tired so it takes him a moment to realize that's what's happening, and he stares for a handful of seconds before he forces himself to look back at his laptop.

This is far from the first time one of them has peed in front of another; they're in each other's space so often that they're genuinely not bothered by these sorts of things anymore. Liam's even seen Harry and Louis use the same urinal at the same time before (the result of which wasn't particularly pleasant). But this, well, it's _Zayn_.

Liam's spent the entire tour training himself when he should look away so his gaze isn't seen as pining, learning how long he can leave his arm around Zayn's shoulders or hold Zayn's hand before it gets creepy. It's a lot easier when they're with the other boys, or when Rebecca's in the room, because then Liam really knows his place. But when he and Zayn are alone like this, when Zayn's got his dick out about a foot and a half away from Liam's face, this is when Liam falters the most.

When Simon first put the lads together, they sort of broke into little pairs, Harry and Louis practically best friends already, Liam gravitating toward Zayn because of his quiet shyness, and Niall sort of zooming around between all them. Liam was much more serious at the time, focused and often stressed out, and Zayn became a calming force for him, talking him off proverbial ledges and grounding him, a large part of that with just his physical presence.

Liam still remembers the first time Zayn touched the back of his neck: backstage at the X Factor, they'd just been saved, put through as a group, and Liam didn't even know Zayn's last name. Niall and Louis and Harry were deeply embroiled in an excited conversation and Liam was feeling blindsided and overwhelmed, happy and relieved and weirdly disappointed at the same time. He's still not sure if Zayn could already read him, could see he needed the contact, but he didn't say anything, just reached out and touched.

Liam recalls that it felt almost uncomfortable at first, being such an intensely intimate touch between virtual strangers. Zayn's fingers sort of wove themselves into the hairs at the base of Liam's skull, his thumb petting the soft skin below Liam's ear, and Liam's face went hot at the way his body reacted, goosebumps rising on his arms and his heart skipping a beat.

That was the beginning of the end, really, the whole incident in the pool happening a week later at Harry's dad's place. Since then Liam's been trying to find his balance, to keep his feelings and thoughts to himself and not make things weird in the face of his undeniable crush on Zayn.

"Liam?" Zayn's voice cuts in, shaking Liam out of his thoughts. He blinks and finds that Zayn is facing him again, holding a hand out like he wants to help him up.

"Yeah, sorry," Liam replies. "I'm pretty tired," he offers in explanation, and Zayn gives him a sympathetic smile.

"Niall's up. Orderin' breakfast, I think, if you wanna go back in?"

"Yeah, I do," he answers, closing his laptop and reaching up to take Zayn's hand. His back spasms painfully as Zayn helps him stand and he groans, his spine cracking.

"You alright?" Zayn asks, placing a steadying hand on Liam's shoulder. "That sounded awful."

"Yeah, just a little stiff," Liam answers, mentally telling his heart to stop racing. There's no reason Zayn's hand on him like this should be causing palpitations.

Zayn pouts at him a little in sympathy, shifting his hand to the juncture between Liam's neck and shoulder and kneading. "I'll give you a rub later, yeah?" he says with a final squeeze and a soft smile, and Liam has to bite his bottom lip very hard to keep himself from making some kind of undignified noise in response.

"Cheers mate," he says instead as he follows Zayn out of the bathroom, and his voice is a little rough, but Zayn doesn't seem to notice.

:::

So nothing, in fact, has worn off by morning, as Harry discovers when he's awoken by Louis abruptly scrambling out of bed to answer a knock at the door. He stays as he is, burrowed into the bedding, and listens to Louis shushing the person in the corridor before their voices drop into low murmurs. It sounds like Trish, though he can't be sure. Female, at least. 

Hmm.

For the first time, Harry considers trying to talk Liam into letting him speak with a woman, though it doesn't have to be Trish. A female perspective on things could be enlightening and there are plenty of them around, a handful of whom Harry even trusts. Then again _Liam_ might not trust them. And it's not likely any of them would believe him anyway.

There's always Gemma, but she might be even more difficult to convince, at least over the phone. And she's way too busy at uni to pop down to London to see with her own eyes. She certainly won't if she thinks her idiot little brother is just having a go.

With a sigh, Harry concedes that he's probably going to have to simply endure on his own. At least he has the faint hope it won't last forever.

It isn't too long before Louis finishes up at the door, closing and locking it behind him and then joining Harry in bed again. Quietly, Harry rolls to face him, feeling uncharacteristically modest as he pulls the sheets up higher.

"We can't keep them out forever," Louis says, sounding much less sure of himself than Harry remembers him being with Liam. "I told her you need sleep right now. Should buy us a few hours."

"And then what?"

Louis shrugs. "Dunno. We'll figure something out. I bet Liam's stayed up half the night thinking of solutions."

Harry really isn't sure he believes that exactly, but the idea is nice all the same. At least he has mates to help him through this. He's not completely on his own.

Still, he can't shake the idea that he's messing everything up for all of them. The lads are helping because they have to, because they've just had all their dreams come true, getting signed to a label and touring and recording an actual album. And now Harry's gone and let himself get turned into a girl. They have to help because it's not just about Harry or Harry's future; it's _all_ of them.

Guilt twisting tighter in his gut, Harry asks, "Any interviews today?"

"Tomorrow," Louis answers, and Harry spares a moment to relax a little. It's no solution, of course, and there's no telling whether they'll be able to actually hold off management all day, but it's at least one slice of good fortune.

Harry rolls onto his back again (and wow, the motion of his breasts is still a little disconcerting), blinking up at the ceiling. 

"Maybe it's like... like a virus or something," he says, thinking aloud. "Maybe it just needs, like, twenty-four hours to clear up."

"Or maybe you need a jab in the bum to take care of it," Louis supplies. "Some kind of anti-pussy vaccine or something."

"It doesn't sound very fun when you put it that way."

"And it's a barrel of laughs if I don't?"

Harry shrugs then, turns his head to give Louis a sort of lopsided smile. "You said yourself, could be worse."

He's expecting Louis to laugh or at least toss back some easy barb in return. Instead, Louis' lips twitch into a frown, his gaze skirting away from Harry's.

Discomfort twists low in Harry's belly again and he pushes one hand out from beneath the sheets to scratch at his jaw. Even that doesn't feel the same. He's not to the shaving stage like Louis or Liam yet so it doesn't really feel all that much smoother or anything, but the shape of his chin is all off. He doesn't like it.

" 's weird, isn't it?" he says, his focus still on Louis as he reaches under the blanket to tug at Louis' t-shirt. 

"Weird's a bit of an understatement, don't you think?" Louis replies, and Harry can feel the way he tenses, makes no move to shift any closer. "You're all... soft now. Which is saying something since you weren't particularly hard to begin with, Hazza."

Despite himself, Harry actually laughs, shaking his head as gives a slow grin. "Not what you said last night."

"Yeah, well," Louis says, his gaze dropping briefly to Harry's chest, still largely hidden beneath the sheet and the shirt he's slept in. "It's different now, isn't it?"

Louis' reply is short and utterly devoid of his typical teasing air. Harry's smile wavers.

"'Course it is," he says, watching Louis intently. "I've got boobs now."

" 's not just the boobs. You're all... What if it doesn't wear off, Harry?" Louis says, finally meeting Harry's eyes again. "What if you're stuck like this?"

"I dunno," Harry answers, desperately trying not to let himself give up hoping. "Guess I'll get an operation then if I have to. Take hormones and stuff. _Or_ ," he adds with a hint of a smile as he squirms closer to Louis, "maybe if we do it again, I'll change back."

Louis arches an eyebrow at him. "You're not serious."

"You got a better idea?" Harry says with a shrug, trying to play it like he's joking even though it really is the best idea he can come up with. And it's hardly as though fooling around with Louis could be any sort of hardship.

For a moment, Louis seems to actually consider it, his gaze intent, lips pursed. Then, "We wouldn't– I mean, last time we, like... It wouldn't work that way."

"Right, yeah," Harry remarks because he hadn't actually thought that far ahead. He shrugs again. "So you could do me."

Immediately, Louis shakes his head, lips stretched in a thin line.

"Oh, come on! I'm not _that_ scary! And it's not like you've never done it with a girl before."

"This is hardly the same thing, is it?"

"Why not? You've just gotta stick it in."

Louis grimaces, still shaking his head. "No, it's, it's too weird. I don't like it."

Strangely, Harry actually finds himself getting angry. It's not an emotion he's ever much liked, feels lucky that it typically takes quite a lot to push him that far. Maybe it's the sudden onslaught of hormones or the trauma of changing so drastically in so short a time, or maybe it's the fact that Louis is being an enormous fucking _twat_ , but Harry snaps, pushing himself up swiftly and ripping the sheets away to stalk toward the bathroom.

"Oh, come on," he hears Louis call after him. "Harry!"

But Harry's only answer is the slam of the toilet door.

:::

Liam follows Zayn back into the main section of their hotel room where they find Niall sat on the end of the bed, snapback perched on his head, fiddling with his mobile. He eyes them a little suspiciously.

"Alright Payno?" he asks Liam, and his gaze lingers, making Liam wonder if he looks as horrible as he feels. "You sleep in the bathtub or something?"

"Well, I had to," Liam replies, setting his laptop down on the mattress. "Way you were snoring."

Niall blinks, like he wasn't expecting a joke. "Fuck off," he says, taking his cap off and chucking it at Liam. "I don't snore."

"Yeah you do, mate," Zayn weighs in, turning his head to share a look with Liam. Liam's not really sure what it's about, but it makes warmth bleed into his face.

"I don't have to take this abuse," Niall replies, getting up to retrieve his hat. "See if I share my breakfast with you bastards now."

"Aww, c'mon Niall," Liam whines, ducking to grab Niall around the waist and haul him into a hug. "Don't be like that. Let's be frieeeends." Liam proceeds to force-cuddle Niall, pressing his face into Niall's shoulder, and it's not long before Niall's giggling. Liam's laughing too, and it feels good to just mess around for a minute, take a break from reality.

"Alright, alright," Niall concedes breathlessly, extracting himself from Liam's arms, still grinning. "You can have some pancakes, I suppose."

"Thank you," Liam sing-songs, leaning in to press a smacking kiss to the top of Niall's head.

"Yeah yeah," Niall replies, finally tugging his cap back on. "Just get off me."

Liam feels a little more buoyant as he sits down on the bed, propping his back against the headboard, and the light feeling in his heart only gets brighter when Zayn moves to sit beside him, their shoulders brushing. It doesn't last long though; Niall takes his place again at the foot of the bed facing them, legs crossed, and asks, "D'you think Harry's still a girl?"

"D'that really happen?" Zayn replies, rolling his head back against the wall. "Thought it was just a dream."

"No, it really happened," Liam says with a sigh. "And I have a feeling if Harry got his dick back he'd be in here showing it off by now."

"Fair point," Niall agrees, and the room drops into silence for a moment as reality sinks back in. "D'you think he's stuck that way? Like, forever?"

Liam shakes his head. "I dunno," he admits. "I hope not. Like, not because I've got a problem with girls," he hurries to add and Niall laughs at him. "Just, you know, can you imagine? Being a boy all your life and then suddenly you're, you know, not anymore."

"Do you think he still likes girls?" Niall asks, looking a little worried. "Or does he like boys now?"

"Think he liked boys before," Zayn answers, and Liam feels himself blushing again for reasons he can't really explain.

"Did he?" Niall wants to know, always so earnest.

Zayn grins and tips his head toward Liam for a moment, sharing a look with him, something conspiratorial. Liam feels a little hollow at not being able to figure out what it means, but he smiles back fondly. "Think he's forgotten how many times Louis turned up in Harry's bed, back at the X Factor house," Zayn finally explains slowly, and Liam laughs in surprise.

"But he sleepwalks!" Niall exclaims, looking a bit frantically at Liam for confirmation.

Zayn turns his gaze back on Niall, smirking at him. "Does he?" he muses. "Why's it he never ended up with anyone else then?"

Niall blinks wide eyes at Zayn before shifting to Liam again, and Liam can't help chuckling.

"He's joking," he tells Niall, his expression serious but still amused. Zayn giggles, hiding his smile behind his hand, and Niall punches him in the calf.

"Arsehole," he says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Zayn leans forward to rub at his leg where Niall hit him, but he doesn't stop smiling. "Can't help it, man," he says as he lets his back drop against the headboard again. "Your face is too hilarious."

Niall doesn't stop pouting, and Liam feels a little bad about it, so he tries to move their original conversation along, saying, "Seriously, though, anyone heard from Harry or Louis this morning?"

"Nah," Zayn replies the same time Niall says, "Texted Harry half an hour ago and he hasn't replied."

Liam frowns. "I feel like we should go check–" he starts to say, but he's interrupted by the arrival of their breakfast.

There's a substantial pause in the conversation while they're distributing food and making tea, and Liam considers dropping it altogether until they've finished eating, but Niall seems at least as preoccupied by Harry's situation as Liam has been. He's just taken a rather large bite of toast with jam when he clears his throat.

"What if Harry never changes back?" he asks, then takes a noisy drink of his tea.

Neither Zayn or Liam respond for a moment, the two of them looking at each other instinctually, sharing an expression of uncertainty. Liam swallows his bite and wipes his mouth on a napkin. "I don't know," he says, and it's a less than helpful reply, but he really doesn't have anything better. "We might be able to continue the tour without him for awhile, but after a couple shows, people are going to want to know what's going on."

"So what do we tell them?" Niall wants to know, looking at Liam like he's got all the answers.

God, does he wish he did.

Instead he shakes his head. "What _can_ we tell them? It's not like we can put out a statement that says we're not exactly just a boyband anymore. No one's going to believe that."

"What if we can be?" Zayn suggests suddenly, licking crumbs from his lips.

"What d'you mean?" Liam asks, turning to meet Zayn's eyes.

"We haven't heard him sing yet," Zayn explains, sitting up a little. "What if his voice is the same? He doesn't look that different, like. If he still sounds like Harry, we could just, I dunno, dress him up like a boy and maybe no one would notice the difference."

Liam considers it for a moment, and while Harry does look very familiar, he doesn't really look the _same_. It would be a serious stretch even if Harry's voice is unchanged, which Liam seriously doubts. But it's actually the best idea any of them have had so far.

"You think it would work?" Niall asks Zayn who shrugs.

"Worth a try," he responds. "What d'you think, Liam?"

"It's not a bad idea," Liam agrees, trying his best to keep his skepticism to himself. "We should at least try singing with him," he goes on. "See what it sounds like and go from there."

Zayn nods, and he looks a little proud of his suggestion and Liam doesn't care if it's a little mad; it's totally worth seeing that expression on Zayn's face. They drop into silence again for a moment, the only sounds in the room forks on plates and quiet chewing. Liam's pouring hot water into his cup to make more tea when Niall, predictably, speaks up again.

"D'you think he's tried out his new, yanno, equipment?" Niall queries, gesturing vaguely at his own crotch.

"Niall," Liam replies, his tone exasperated. It's way too early in the morning to be talking about wanking. And over breakfast, no less.

"I would," Zayn says before Niall can even start to argue with Liam, and Liam turns his head to look at Zayn abruptly. "Wot? I would," he defends his statement under Liam's scrutiny. "How many chances d'you get to practice like that? Be brilliant in bed after that, I imagine."

"Think it works that way?" Niall asks. "Like, does that mean lesbians are better at that stuff than we are?"

"Well, you've got a penis," Liam says, stirring milk into his tea with a butter knife. "Think you'd be good with someone else's?"

"Ugh, Liam," Niall grimaces, hiding his face behind his own teacup.

"It's a fair comparison," Liam goes on. "I don't think it's ever that simple. People are all different, aren't they? Doesn't matter how much experience you have with the parts if you don't know what someone likes or not."

"Gotta help though," Zayn interjects. "Like, m'better at it now than I was when I started. With girls, I mean."

"So you'd be wicked good at handies by now, wouldn't ya?" Niall jokes and Zayn throws a packet of butter at him.

"Not as good as you, I'd reckon," he says, swatting away the balled up napkin Niall chucks at him in retaliation.

"What about sex?" Liam asks abruptly, earning him both Zayn and Niall's confused gazes. "I mean, like," he tries to explain, feeling suddenly flustered. "Would you have sex with someone like that? Like, as a girl?"

"You mean if I was one?" Zayn wants to know, and Liam nods in confirmation. "Dunno. Probably? I mean, like. Might as well see what it's like, yeah?"

"With a boy, though?" Niall wonders, and his voice is a little high. It strikes Liam as odd that Niall seems so concerned with the idea of fluid sexuality, especially given some of the company they all keep.

"Didn't think about that," Zayn replies, and he seems to really be considering it. "I dunno, probably?" he finally admits, turning his attention entirely to Liam. "Like, not just anyone, but, like, someone I trusted, someone who'd be careful and, like, make sure it was good, like." Zayn's eyes don't leave Liam's face, his expression so warm and fond, and it feels like there's something _there_ , like Zayn's trying to make a specific point. It makes Liam's pulse jump in his throat and he has to swallow hard around it.

When Zayn finally turns away from Liam, soft little smile still on his lips, Liam blinks and sees Niall nodding, like something's clicking into place for him.

"Would you?" Zayn asks him, and Niall goes a little wide eyed at being called out.

"I, ehm," Niall starts, looking to Liam for a second before shifting his gaze back to Zayn.

"Doesn't have to be with a guy," Zayn offers, trying to give Niall a bit of a break, and Niall nods again.

"Yeah, I know that," he says, licking his lips. "Just, you know. Not sure I'd want to, eh. Well, I'd be losing my virginity, wouldn't I?" he continues, looking suddenly very young; Liam's been around Niall's huge personality so long he's forgotten Niall's just a seventeen year old kid, just as unsure and inexperienced as the rest of them. "Not sure I'd want to do it that way, you know?"

"Course not," Liam agrees, giving Niall a sympathetic smile. "As for me, I think I'd give it a go," he continues, shifting the conversation to himself to give Niall a reprieve. "Maybe with a girl and a boy. Like, separately. Just to have both experiences. If I could find a girl who'd want to, obviously."

"Don't think Danielle would?" Zayn asks, and there's something sort of off in Zayn's expression, an emphasis on Danielle's name that has an edge to it.

Liam shrugs. "You think Rebecca would?" he turns it around, and Zayn frowns at him. Rebecca's sort of a sore spot for them, because while Zayn likes her, he doesn't really see what they have as being serious or long-lasting. Liam's voiced his feelings on the subject more than once, that he doesn't think Rebecca views it as a fling the same way Zayn does. Liam tells himself his issues with their relationship have nothing to do with is stupid crush on Zayn, but there's definitely a part of him that isn't so sure that's true. Whatever the reason, Zayn has made it clear that he doesn't really appreciate Liam's feedback.

"Hey, let's go check on Harry, yeah?" Niall suggests, picking up on the tension between them. "Lads?"

"Yeah," Liam agrees, holding Zayn's eyes for a second longer before shifting to get up from the bed. Zayn's still giving Liam a hard look when he gets up from the other side, but Liam shakes it off, heading toward the door.

:::

Louis doesn't come after him, but Harry locks the door anyway, still fuming as he stomps over to the toilet. His hands are already on the waistband of his shorts before he realizes he can't take care of business the way he's used to. He stops entirely for a moment, a brief wave of panic rising in his throat before he shoves it back down, lips curling into a serious frown as he shoves his pants down to his thighs and drops down onto the toilet.

The ceramic is cold against his bottom which only makes Harry more irritated, hands clutching at the fabric of his shorts as he waits. When he finally relaxes enough to actually start peeing, he feels almost ashamed by it, hunching forward to rest his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands, unpleasantly warm all over. Worse, aside from Louis being a prat, he isn't even sure _why_ he's so upset. He's never felt particularly bothered by bodily functions (though, admittedly, he's less free with them than say, Niall) and he certainly doesn't find being a girl shameful. So what's his problem?

He stays as he is even after he's finished emptying his bladder, forces himself to take a few slow breaths before he glances a bit warily at the toilet roll. Frowning, Harry reaches to take a small handful (though he honestly has no idea if he has too much or too little; what's the usual amount when it's simply pee, after all?) and then, sucking in another deep breath, reaches between his thighs.

He catches a glimpse of his flaming red face as he jumps back to his feet, toilet paper safely dropped into the bowl. The slam of ceramic on ceramic barely registers as stares, wide-eyed at his own reflection, breath caught high in his chest.

"Holy..." he whispers in little more than a rush of air. He turns his head slowly one way and then the other. He doesn't look completely different, honestly. His eyes seem about the same color and it's not as though he's suddenly turned into Gemma's twin. It's just that everything is a little bit rounder, a little softer, a little smaller.

Lifting a hand, he pokes at his cheek, right where the dimple still is, then smoothes it up over the bridge of his nose and down over his lips. He pinches them into a duck-face, squints his eyes, runs a hand through his hair which, as far as he can tell, is about the only thing on him that hasn't really changed at all. It flops back into place and he brushes it back with one hand, twitches his lips this way and that, scrunches his nose.

As often as Harry's joked about absorbing a twin in the womb and stealing his nipples, this is the first time he's ever really, actually considered the notion.

Because this is what his twin sister would look like.

"So fucking mental."

Still staring at his reflection, Harry stands straight again to take in the rest of himself from waist up, the length of his neck and drop of his shoulders. He's never been the biggest lad, still all gangly and knobby-kneed as Louis has always been so quick to point out. But he's even smaller now, he thinks. All, like... delicate and small even if he doesn't really _feel_ that way.

On the other hand, he does look quite fit.

His gaze wanders, locking on the matching bumps beneath the shirt he's still wearing, and he raises a hand to touch the right one, cupping it gently. It doesn't feel too different from when he normally touches his chest except, of course, that there's a lot more there now. And it feels nice, both the weight in his palm as well as, like, from the other side of things. There's a weird sort of satisfaction in it, even, and he squeezes gently, glances up to watch as he does so, his lips parted on a quiet ' _oh_ ' sound as a current of pleasure trails down his spine. He does it again, just a little harder, then releases to just brush his thumb back and forth over the nub. It's bigger, he notices, and he finally pulls his shirt up to have a better look.

And, wow. Well, that's a sight.

Harry's always been a big fan of boobs, has seen quite a few pairs in his short life, and he must admit, these are really very nice. He hasn't the first clue on how to gauge breast size or anything, but these are more than a handful each and really very, well... perky. Yes.

Again, he pinches a nipple, hissing at the pleasure-pain, his hips rocking instinctively before he cups the soft flesh of his breast in one hand, squeezes. His other nipples are still there, he notices, just exactly where they've always been, and that's a weird sort of relief. He tweaks them too, just to see if there's any difference, but they feel much the same. Perfectly ordinary.

He wrestles free of his shirt then, letting it fall to the floor and leaving him in only his shorts. His eyes widen at the delicate flare of his hips. The few stray hairs he's grown below his belly-button over the past couple years are gone, replaced by nothing but smooth skin. Tentatively, he tucks his thumbs into the elastic waistband of his shorts, spares a second to take a breath, steels himself, and then tugs faintly, just enough to peer inside. There _is_ hair there, he sees. And, of course, no penis.

Heart pounding, Harry lets the waistband snap back into place as he looks at himself in the mirror again.

Okay, so. No penis. He knew that already, so it's not, like, a surprise or anything. And he's still human, he's still _Harry_. That's the important thing.

Right.

Harry hunches forward over the counter, head lowered for a moment as he waits for the wave of panic to pass. Breathes in and out, nice and slow.

Once he's feeling a little less like passing out, he raises his head and immediately notices the way his breasts have swung forward in this position, full and heavy and... yes, very very nice. It really makes no sense that Louis doesn't want to shag him like this, and the idea makes him irritated once more, lips thinning as he shoves at the waistband of his shorts again, fabric falling to the floor with barely a whisper.

" _I'd_ shag me," he declares to nobody in particular as he runs a hand down his stomach. It's softer than he's used to, but the skin feels nice under his fingers and he pushes on, face flushing a bit when he encounters the short curls of pubic hair. Again, it's not unlike what he's used to, not entirely. There's just that fairly substantial thing that's missing, really. He cups his hand over the area, fingertips slipping between the V of his thighs and it's... well, it's still weird. But not all bad. It certainly doesn't feel unpleasant, and he curls one finger just enough to slip between the folds.

Harry's eyes go wide then, breath catching as he continues staring at himself in the mirror, on all the new dips and swells and curves, the quiver in his stomach when he inhales sharply again.

This isn't entirely foreign to him, honestly. It's only been a few months since he last touched a girl like this so it's not like he's completely clueless or anything. Of course, he's never really touched a girl from this angle and he's certainly never felt this, like, on the receiving end of things. So _that_ part is new. Because it's not quite like touching his dick at all, the mechanics completely different, the sensation that shoots through him and warms his belly strangely more intense in a way he hadn't really been expecting.

Suddenly he feels a little bit bad about that, like maybe he should've known from asking the girls he's been with. But he'd always been so excited about simply getting his hand in the girl's knickers to bother, too busy marveling at the warm, slick heat around his fingers as he pushed inside.

And it's that thought, that memory of wet, slippery heat that has him venturing further, teeth sinking into his bottom lip with concentration. The angle is still weird and he can't really see what he's doing; he's suddenly fiercely glad nobody's around to see him trying this as he fumbles blindly between his legs. He bends forward at the hips after a moment, bracing himself with one hand against the counter as he spreads his legs. And that helps, his eyes widening in wonder when he finds what he's looking for, the tip of one finger slipping past wet, sensitive skin and _in_.

"Oh," he breathes, keeping still for a moment, one finger in up to the first knuckle.

It's not quite what he's expecting, not like a sudden, overwhelming _good_ sensation so much as just... strange. Invasive. Even more so as he gently pushes in deeper, little by little. There's an ache he can't quite define as well, but it's not at all painful. Just weirdly unsatisfying.

Disappointed, Harry slips his finger free and stands up straight. He keeps his hand lowered though, still touching, spreading the folds inquisitively as he stares at himself in the mirror. He's never really gotten a good look before, everything far too rushed and feverish in the heat of the moment, and the girls always too self-conscious to let him peer very closely. 

He's getting a good look now, though. Better than any of the diagrams he's seen in school books, better even than the photos in the lads mags Ben used to bring over. The skin down below is still slippery and soft and really very pink, and Harry touches carefully, dragging one finger up and down in a slow, easy rhythm. Even that is enough to make his breath quicken as the hard nubs of his nipples go tight. It reminds him a little of touching his dick even if the action itself is different; it _feels_ pretty similar.

So he keeps it up, smoothing his other hand over the flat expanse of his new stomach and up his chest to cup first one breast and then the other. He plays with his right nipple, pinching it between thumb and forefinger just as his other hand, the one nestled between his thighs, finds a spot that jolts a spike of pleasure up his spine hard enough to rock his entire body forward.

Harry knows what it is, of course. He may be only barely seventeen, but he isn't stupid. He's even found this exact spot on a girl before, if only just the once (and with her help).

He rubs across it again, finding the thrill no less pleasing the second time around. It's a little strange at first, like tapping just the tip of his penis, right at the slit over and over. But as he starts to play with pressure and rhythm, it feels more intense. And like, really, _really_ good. His knees start to go a little wobbly and he falls forward to steady himself against the counter, bites down on his lip as a weird pressure builds in the base of his spine. He finds a nice rhythm, something close to the pull and jerk he's used to, panting as he curls his fingers against the lip of the sink. It's even wetter down there now than when he'd started, reminding him more of the few girls he's been lucky enough to touch and he hums at the memory, surprised again by the sound of his voice though it's a bit higher than before. It breaks off at the end, turning sharper and needier as he works his hand faster, breasts jostling with the bump of his arm, the ache in his belly tightening little by little before a knock on the door startles him into stopping.

"Harry! Harry, c'mon, we know you're in there!"

Panting and aching and _wanting_ , Harry just stares at himself in the mirror, swallowing down the impulse to kill not only Niall, but every other Irishman he's ever met purely on principle.

Frustration bleeds into renewed irritation as he yanks the door open to Niall's wide smile. Or at least it starts out as a smile, the corners of his mouth twitching uncertainly as his gaze drops downward to take in Harry's naked form.

" _Whoa._ "

Harry doesn't even bother trying to hide his foul mood, one hand settling on his hip as he scowls. "Lou run away yet?"

"Wha–" Niall remarks, eyes skittering back to meet Harry's. "Lou? No, he's right here."

And he is, of course; Harry catches sight of him just beyond Niall's shoulder, sitting on the edge of the bed next to Liam, Zayn propped against the dresser. They're all staring at him with varying expressions of disappointment.

"You look… _wow_."

Tearing his gaze away from the other three, Harry finally really _looks_ at Niall who's sort of dancing from foot to foot in front of him, crossing and uncrossing his arms like he isn't quite sure what to do with them. His face is flushed a bright red, familiar goofy smile spread across his cheeks though it's not quite as wide as normal.

And then Harry remembers he's still naked.

Briefly, he considers retrieving his shirt and shorts from the bathroom. As much as he's always preferred nudity (much to the chagrin for more than a few people) it feels a little odd indulging in this body. It's not a shame thing so much as he's just not entirely comfortable in it yet. He hasn't spent seventeen hours as a female, much less seventeen _years_ , isn't used to the missing dangle between his legs or the added weight on his chest.

On the other hand, he's fairly certain he spent the first few hours his life starkers. Screaming, crying, and shitting himself too, sure, but if he could do it once, he can do it again.

And any of his own discomfort will be well worth it to make _Louis_ uncomfortable.

So he stands up a little straighter (noticing not for the first time how he's a good few inches shorter in this body) and pulls his shoulders back, giving Niall a warm look and a knowing smile.

"You like it?" he asks, deciding to test the waters a bit and reaching up to pat Niall's cheek with his still slightly sticky fingers. He doesn't miss the way Niall's nostrils flare at the touch and it makes something in his own belly flip, a rush of power running through him as he drags his thumb along Niall's jaw. "Oh yeah, you definitely do. How interesting," he says before dropping his hand and walking past him into the room proper. 

Standing with his legs spread wide and hands on his hips, he shoots Louis a quick glare (which Louis avoids in favor of staring down at his bitten fingernails) and then turns his attention on Liam. 

"So what's the plan?"

:::

"I, um," Liam starts to reply, because those are Harry's eyes on him, but Liam can't really focus on anything at the moment besides girl-Harry's naked breasts. Liam's a gentleman and he's never had trouble looking at a girl's face when he's talking to her, even if he thinks she's hot. But he's also never had to have a conversation with a naked girl that he wasn't in the process of having sex with, and it's more than a little unnerving.

"Jesus, would you put a shirt on?" Louis tells Harry, and his tone seems way more more harsh than the situation calls for. "Liam's clearly incapable of talking to you when you've got your tits out like that."

"Why don't you go fuck yourself?" Harry snarls.

"What's going on with you two?" Niall asks from where he's sat in a chair next to the bed. Niall's sweet and doesn't really understand boundaries, and while it generally works for him because everyone loves him and no one ever gets upset, no one answers him here, both Harry and Louis looking away from the group.

"Right," Liam says, because he's not brave enough to wade into whatever's going on between Harry and Louis right now, and they have things to discuss. He clears his throat and mentally acknowledges, yes, Harry's naked, and yes, Harry's boobs are very nice, but they are just breasts (of which Liam's seen his fair share) and he can have a totally reasonable conversation even with a topless female involved.

"Right, so clearly this isn't as temporary as we'd hoped," he says, and Harry, looking at him, rolls his eyes.

"No shit," Louis tacks on needlessly, which earns him a glare from both Liam and Harry.

"Anyway," Liam continues, raising his voice slightly, "we're going to have to decide what we're telling people when they come around asking why Harry's not left his room all day."

"I told Trish he's ill," Louis says right off. "She came by this morning and I said he had flu or something and was sleeping it off."

"Okay," Liam replies, nodding. "That should buy us the rest of today at least. We've got interviews tomorrow, though. I suppose we could say he's still too sick to leave the room."

"Tell 'em it's food poisoning," Zayn suggests, still leant against the dresser. "He can't be away from a toilet. No one'll mess with 'im if they think he'll shit himself."

Niall laughs and Harry rolls his eyes again. It doesn't seem to matter how many dirty looks Harry throws Niall's way, though; Niall can't take his eyes off Harry's body. He's not exactly leering, but his gaze is wandering over every inch of Harry's exposed skin, his cheeks burning, and every once and a while Liam catches him tugging at the front of his trousers. Liam would be disgusted at the display, but he can't really blame Niall when Harry's standing there without a stitch of clothing on him.

"Yeah, that sounds good," Liam finally agrees, clearing his throat. "In the meantime, Harry, we need to know what your singing voice sounds like."

This finally earns him Harry's full attention. "You want me to sing?"

"Yes," Liam answers. "Just to see what your range is now."

"It's got to be higher," Harry says, tone combative. "It is when I'm talking, isn't it?"

Liam sighs, exasperated. "Humour me, will you? Please?"

Harry props his hands on his hips, and Liam wishes he didn't notice the way it makes his breasts jiggle. He can actually hear the rough way Niall exhales, and Liam's not sure he's ever felt more uncomfortable in his life. "Alright, fine," Harry says, seeming oblivious to the fact that Niall's practically drooling over him. "What're we singing then?"

"Only Girl," Louis says immediately with a snarky little twist to his lips. "Seems appropriate, considering the circumstances."

Harry doesn't seem amused by the suggestion, dropping his arms by his sides and taking a step forward, glaring at Louis like he wants to take his head off. There's a horrifying moment when Liam thinks Harry's actually going to tackle Louis, and all he can think about is how he's going to possibly get Harry off him without groping him unintentionally. Thankfully Harry stands his ground, and Zayn diffuses the moment by saying, "Let's do Grenade."

"That's a good idea," Niall agrees, and Liam's a little surprised he's paying enough attention to weigh in. "It's stripped down, isn't it?" he explains, and Zayn snickers at Niall's choice of words. Niall glares at him, but continues. "What I'm saying is there won't be as much music to cover his voice. And he has a bigger range on that song."

"Yeah, good, let's do Grenade," Liam agrees. "Niall, start with the second line in your part of the first stanza, and we'll do the chorus."

Niall clears his throat, looking up at Harry and getting caught there for a moment, like he doesn't know how to look at him without _looking_ at him. "Okay," he says, more to himself than anyone, and he clears his throat again before he begins to sing.

His voice sounds a little rough, probably from not warming up and also from what's obviously going on below his waist, but it doesn't sound bad, just kind of husky. There's a building amount of tension in the room when Niall nears the end of his phrase and Harry's meant to pick up the lead on the chorus. Harry begins as seamlessly as usual, and it's so easy and familiar that it's almost jarring, both Liam and Louis forgetting to start their parts until a couple of beats late.

The most interesting part is that it actually does sound like Harry singing. The breath control and the tone and the shape of the words identical, and it's really only pitched a bit higher than usual, like someone's run his voice through a filter. When everyone's singing together it's almost like the old Harry is right there with them, the illusion only shattered when Liam looks up and sees the way Harry's chest lifts when he breathes.

Zayn begins his part instinctually and then stops a few notes in, leaving the room in silence for a couple of long seconds.

"Well," Zayn says, cocking his head and looking at Liam for his approval.

"Damn," Liam responds, nodding at Zayn. "I think it might work."

"What?" Harry asks, looking back at Zayn and then to Liam. "What're talking about?"

"We're going to pass you off as yourself," Niall answers, and then laughs.

"He means we're going to, like, dress you as a boy?" Zayn offers, and this time he's the one giving Harry a onceover. "Like, buy you some smaller clothes and, like, tape down your boobs or whatever."

Harry blinks at Zayn, then looks down at his own chest. He seems to contemplate it for a moment before reaching up with his hands, cupping both palms over his nipples and pushing on his breasts in an effort to flatten them out. He releases them, then tries it again, tipping his head in appraisal. "D'you think it'll work?" he asks, looking back up at the rest of them, hands still shoving his boobs against his ribs.

Niall tries to speak but ends up coughing instead, which causes Zayn to laugh out loud. Louis looks positively irritated, like he's about two seconds away from punching Niall in the face.

"Might as well try," Liam offers. "Not like we've got a tonne of other options."

"Liam and I can go shopping," Zayn adds, standing up straight. "We've both got teenaged sisters, so, like, experience with bras and things."

"Should we measure him?" Niall wonders, his eyes all over Harry again.

"What with?" Louis asks shortly, pinning Niall with his gaze. "Got a measuring tape on you, do you?"

"Was just a question, Jesus," Niall replies, sitting back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest.

"We'll make our best guess," Liam answers, staring Louis down. He doesn't know what Louis' problem is, but he makes a note to grill him later if he can manage to get Louis alone.

"Might want to get some Gatorade or something too," Zayn says. "Like, for the food poisoning story."

"Oh yeah, that's smart," Niall agrees. "Like, maybe some TUC biscuits too."

"I think there's an ASDA not too far from here," Liam says, pulling out his phone and launching the map app. As he gets up from his place on the end of the bed, he adds, "Zayn, you ready?"

"I'm going with," Louis announces abruptly, standing at Liam's side. "Need to get some air," he says by way of explanation, and Liam doesn't miss the hurt look that crosses Harry's face.

"Fine," Harry says, walking around both of them and throwing himself down on the bed. "Niall will stay with me, won't you Niall?" he asks, and Liam's not surprised by how eagerly Niall nods in response.

"Sure. No problem, Haz," Niall replies, and Liam considers telling Niall to keep his hands off, but he knows Harry can take care of himself, and Niall's not the type to take advantage of a situation like this anyway.

Louis, on the other hand, looks likes he's verging on murderous. "At least put on some fucking clothes," he spits as he turns to Harry, the expression on his face impossible to read.

"Get fucked," Harry replies, shifting back on the bed and propping a pillow under his shoulders, his legs thrown wide with no consideration for what it does to his new genitalia.

Louis looks like he's going to reply, but a second later he just turns curtly and stalks across the room, wrenching the door open and going into the hall. Liam and Zayn share a look with each other and then with Niall, but it seems like they're all similarly clueless, and Harry doesn't seem interested in enlightening them.

"Okay, well," Liam says, looking over to Harry. "We'll be back in a bit. Call me if you need anything while we're out." Harry nods, still sprawled out on the bed, and while it's not an unusual posture for Harry, in his current body it just looks pornographic in a way that makes Liam want to cover his eyes. He swallows and tears his gaze away, heading to the door with Zayn at his heels, more than a little relieved once he's on the other side of it.

:::

The room is almost eerily quiet once the other three are gone and Harry feels no guilt whatsoever in letting himself wallow for a minute, arms crossed over his chest as he glowers at the ceiling. Considering all that's on the line, it's stupid to be so focused on Louis, but he can't seem to help it. It's been less than twenty-four hours since everything went tits up (literally), hardly enough time at all for Louis to just up and decide that Harry's not worth the trouble.

Of course this predicament isn't exactly normal. Harry does know that. Still, it's not like it's his fault, not like he chose for this to happen. The least Louis could do is be a bit more understanding.

"You, ehm… you alright, Harry?"

Niall's voice is kind and tentative and Harry sighs. "What do you think?"

"You seem a bit messed up, really. Which, you know. To be expected, I s'pose."

There's something strangely comforting in Niall's familiar lilt and Harry finally relaxes just a little as he glances over. However calm Niall is clearly trying to appear, he's missing by about a mile, his cheeks still a blotchy red and left leg jittering in that way it does before they're about to go on stage.

Harry shrugs. "Can you blame me?"

"Well, it's not like you've died," Niall points out before gesturing at Harry sort of vaguely with one hand. "And you do look really fit."

Harry glances down at himself, lips quirking into a faint smile. "The boobs are nice," he admits, uncrossing his arms to palm one in each hand. It still feels sort of weird, but it's a _good_ weird. He smooshes them in close and then toys with the nipples a little, just to feel them. Niall's gone completely quiet in his chair and Harry looks over again, arches an eyebrow when he sees the look on Niall's face, blue eyes wide and mouth hanging open.

But before he can be called out on staring, Niall sputters and lets out a rough, nervous laugh, cheeks again flushing dark as he meets Harry's eyes.

"Yes. Yeah, they're very–" He cuts himself with a quick cough and practically launches himself from his chair. "Oh, Haz, have you eaten? Don't know 'bout you, but I'm dyin' for a sandwich."

It's all very quick, very abrupt, and Harry stares at Niall for a minute, a bit stunned.

Then, "Actually, now you mention it, I am a bit hungry," he concedes, pushing himself off the bed and wandering to where Niall's perusing the room service menu. In the chaos of everything Harry's not really had much time to consider the need for food, but now that the winds have died down a bit he's realizing the empty feeling in his stomach might not have as much to do with his missing penis as he'd thought.

Turns out the hotel is still only serving breakfast and Niall's already eaten (a fact Harry finds wholly unsurprising), so they just order some eggs and sausages and fruit to munch on before Harry drops back on the bed, cross-legged with his back against the headboard. He flips on the telly as Niall stands awkwardly to the side.

"D'you think maybe, uh…" Niall's gaze keeps dropping from Harry's face to his chest and back again, and he's shifting his weight from one foot the other as he scratches at his neck. "I mean, not that it's botherin' me at all, but if Trish or someone walked in, they might, like. Be a bit surprised."

"Oh," Harry replies, frowning as he glances downward again, this time past his breasts to the meatier flesh of his new thighs and the curves of his ankles tucked under his knees. "The door's locked, yeah?"

"Yeah, but someone might come in with the food."

"What, like under the cart? Like in a Bond film?"

"Maybe, yeah," Niall says, laughing though his face is still all ruddy and he's clearly trying to keep his gaze fixed above Harry's neck.

The idea might seem a little far-fetched, but Harry supposes Niall does have a point. And, without Louis here to make uncomfortable, there isn't really much reason for Harry to stay naked. Besides, it _is_ sort of chilly, a fact his nipples are making obvious.

"Yeah, alright," he agrees finally, slipping off the bed to find the shorts and shirt he'd left in the toilet. He returns, newly clothed, to find Niall on the bed, remote in one hand as he pokes at the sheets with the other. Harry's about to remark on it when Niall lifts the finger to his nose and sniffs, faltering a second later when he notices Harry's presence.

"Er," Harry says for lack of a better response.

"It's all, ehm," Niall rushes to explain before coughing on another broken sort of laugh. "It's you, I think. Like, from your… you know."

And no, Harry _doesn't_ know. At least not until Niall gives a pointed glance downward toward the general vicinity of Harry's crotch.

This time it's his turn to feel warm in the face and he hesitates at the edge of the bed, looking from Niall to the mattress and back. It's not too much of a wet spot; he's definitely left worse the time or two he'd been too lazy or too tired to clean up with a tissue, but it is noticeable.

"Think it's like that for them all the time?" Niall asks, quieter in his curiosity.

"Dunno," Harry says as honestly as he can, lifting a hand to scratch at his waist. "Think maybe it's more like 'cause I was… before you knocked on the door earlier? I was sort of, uh. Exploring. A bit."

Niall blinks at him. 

"And, like. Girls sort of get wet when they're turned on?" Harry continues, genuinely not sure if Niall's surprised or if he really has no idea about these sorts of things. As much as they've talked about this stuff, about how far they've gone with girls and all that, it's never quite been in a context like this. "Apparently it doesn't, like, dry up right away."

Niall continues to stare at him a moment before swallowing with a tight nod. "Right, yeah. Makes sense."

"Right," Harry agrees, ignoring the new wave of awkwardness as he crawls up onto the bed. He makes sure to leave a good amount of space between them and doesn't gripe when Niall settles on some rugby match Harry doesn't care about. It's not like he doesn't have anything on his mind to keep him occupied.

When their food arrives, Harry crawls beneath the covers just in case Niall's intruder theory proves to be more than idle paranoia and only comes out again once Niall's assured him the coast is clear. They eat in relative silence, Harry catching Niall sneaking glances his way only occasionally as he eats his eggs and sausage. The presence of food (and maybe lack of nudity) seem to have made Niall relax a little and Harry's feeling more normal himself. Or at least as normal as can be expected given that he's still entirely in the wrong body.

He's licking a stray bit of peach juice off the side of his thumb when Niall says, "So how was it then?"

Luckily, when it comes to Niall, Harry's accustomed to feeling as though he's been dropped into the middle of a conversation he doesn't recall having, so he only offers a shrug and sucks at the flesh of his hand. "Well, like. Wet. Bit weird, but good." It's the last thing they were talking about before the food arrived so it makes sense.

"No, not that," Niall replies and Harry glances over again. "Like, uh. With the girl."

Harry frowns. "What girl?"

"The one last night. Before you got all switched 'round."

It's another second or two before Harry catches up and remembers Louis' last minute lie, looking away quickly to stare at the half-eaten fruit in his hand. "Dunno," he finally says, fighting the urge to fall sullen and angry again. It's not Niall's fault, after all; he's just curious, just asking a question. There's no need for Harry to take whatever it is he's feeling out on an innocent party. Especially when it's Niall of all people. "It was good. She was nice. Fit."

"Mmm," Niall says, nodding thoughtfully. "Was it any different? Like, from before?"

"Different? What, like, 'cause of the fan thing?"

Harry's actually surprised he can remember that little detail, though he hopes Niall doesn't ask for too much further confirmation on things.

Niall shifts beside him, back bumping against the headboard as he tugs at the thigh of his trackies and shrugs. "No, I mean, like. Was it different from the other girls you've already told us about? Like with, with how far you went?"

As he considers the question, Harry feels some of his discomfort melt away into slow amusement and he quirks a grin. "Are you asking if it was a proper shag?"

"Yeah," Niall says with absolutely no shame. "Just 'cause, like. I know the other lads have all done it and you've said before that you haven't."

"Wondering if you're the last?"

Niall shrugs. "Not so bad if I am. Just curious."

"Well," Harry says, sucking in a slow breath as he sits up a little straighter. "It was different, yeah," he admits, because it's not at all a lie. Niall may be talking about a girl, but there's no reason for Harry to correct him. In fact, if Louis' behavior is anything to go by, it's absolutely integral that he _not_.

But Harry doesn't really want to think about Louis' behavior right now. He can, however, think about last night. Before everything kind of went to shit.

"It was pretty incredible, actually," he says, and if his smile isn't as bright as it could be, he hopes Niall just won't notice. It's still not a lie, even if they're not really talking about exactly the same thing.

"Yeah?" Niall says, perking up a little as he turns to face Harry, rugby match forgotten. "It wasn't weird? It bein' with someone you don't really know?"

That catches a little and Harry has to look away again with a shrug. "Yeah, that was okay. Doesn't really matter, does it?"

"No?"

Harry doesn't answer, instead turning his eyes to focus on the piece of fruit in his hand.

"I mean, I've always thought it'd be easier with someone you know," Niall continues, undeterred. "But I guess maybe that's not true of everyone. Did you just wanna get it over with then?"

That's definitely not the case, though there's no way for Harry to explain it now, not without giving everything away. So he just mumbles, "Yeah, guess so," and hopes Niall doesn't push it.

"Bet you're regretin' that now, eh?" Niall says, voice taking on that familiar teasing tone. "I mean, now that you're a girl and all. D'you think she did this to you? Like, maybe you slept with a witch or somethin'?"

"Are you being serious?" Harry asks, brow furrowing.

"Well, there's no other explanation, is there?"

"She wasn't a witch."

"Might've been. They're real, you know. Witches and demons and things. And how else do you explain this? No one I've ever known has turned into a girl after doin' it for the first time."

"She wasn't."

"How d'you know?" Niall asks. His focus is locked on Harry now. But it's different from before, laced with more open concern than Harry's used to. 

"Because, for one, witches aren't real--"

"They are, mate."

"They aren't. And _two_ ," Harry adds, his voice a little bit louder, "I just– I would've known, alright? Like, there would've been a smell or a feeling or some weird incantation, wouldn't there? That's how witches work. And there wasn't. There was nothing. Just some kissing and a shag and then _this_."

That effectively makes Niall fall quiet, the crowd noise and rugby commentators filling up the empty space for a long, awkward moment. Harry's just starting to feel guilty for snapping when Niall shifts again, asks, "So, like. Aside from the turning-into-a-girl bit, it was good?"

And this time Harry can't help it, Niall's singular focus in the face of all the utter _weirdness_ pulling a helpless laugh from Harry's chest.

"Fine, yes," he says, rolling his eyes fondly. It's enough of a relief to laugh that Harry can push aside the discomfort and the angst and just let himself remember. There's still an ache there, still something close to a regret now that Louis's being the way he is, but for the moment Harry can sort of forget about it and let himself live in how it was at the time. "It was really good, actually. Like, took a bit more work than I was expecting, really, to uh, you know. Get her ready and, like, comfortable and stuff. But once we were really goin' it was... it was pretty incredible."

Niall's gaze doesn't leave Harry's at all, his smile warm and sort of goofy where it's utterly fixed on Harry. "Yeah?"

And Harry laughs again, comfortable for maybe the first time since everything turned upside-down. "Yeah," he says, grinning. Twenty minutes later finds himself nestled up against Niall's side, head rested on Niall's shoulder, dozing in and out of watching the match, and it's just nice. It's really, really nice.

:::

"I hate you, Liam!" Louis shouts above the cacophony of screaming girls as they shove through the crowd in front of their hotel. "I hate you so much!"

"Not helping," Liam mutters in response, holding his shopping bag closer to his chest and ducking his head as someone yanks off his cap, knocking his sunglasses askew. He glances to his left just in time to see Zayn extracting his arm from the iron grip of a pre-teen girl as carefully as he can, his hoodie pulled half off his shoulder.

He turns the other way when he hears Louis yelp, sees a bodyguard hauling him bodily out of the arms of a pair of fans and depositing him in front of the door. He hurries inside, Zayn following quickly behind, Liam taking up the rear.

"Oh my god," Zayn drawls once they're safe, tugging his sleeve back into place. "That was completely mental."

"I told you we should have taken a car," Louis grouses, bag of groceries at his feet as he tries to push his hair back into the right direction across his forehead.

"And we'd tell the driver what, exactly?" Liam responds, lamenting the loss of his hat; he'd quite liked that one. "We're buying bras for Cher or something?"

"Sure, why not?" Louis answers. "Anything's got to be better than that," he adds, jerking a thumb back toward the door.

"What in the hell were you boys thinking?" a booming voice asks, and Liam turns into the angry glare of Nigel, the tour's security manager. "You know better than to go out unsupervised like that. We're in London, there are thousands of fans outside."

"I know, I know, we're sorry," Liam replies, setting his bag down and trying to look as apologetic as possible. "We just wanted to get out of the hotel for a bit. And Harry's sick, as you know, so we wanted to get him something to settle his stomach."

"You can have the runners do that," Nigel tells him, hands on his hips like a stern father. "You guys absolutely cannot go out on your own like that. I'm serious, Liam."

"You're right, I know," Liam says, lowering his head and looking appropriately ashamed. "It won't happen again, I swear."

"Best not," Nigel replies, holding his steely expression a moment longer before finally relenting. "How is Harry feeling?" he asks, tone lighter with concern. "Any better?"

"He's still pretty poorly I'm afraid," Liam answers. "We got him some Gatorade and crackers at ASDA," he adds, tipping his head back to where he assumes Louis is still standing. "So hopefully he'll turn the corner soon."

"Maybe we ought to bring a doctor out," Nigel suggests and Liam can feel the color bleed out of his own face.

"No!" he says quickly, then tries again, calmer the next time. "No, I think he just needs a little more rest. Probably something he ate is all." He finishes with a smile he hopes is assuring enough to deter Nigel's desire to involve medical professionals.

There's a moment of hesitation, but then Nigel nods. "You boys need anything else, you have someone get it for you, yeah? Don't go out on your own again, you hear me?"

"Yes, sir," Liam replies with a smile, trying to ignore Louis' snort from over his shoulder. As soon as Nigel steps away he turns and gives Louis a dirty look, but it only makes Louis laugh at him.

" _Yes_ , sir," Louis mocks, and Liam rolls his eyes.

"Didn't see you helping," he complains, reaching down to retrieve his shopping bag. He's surprised when Louis doesn't have a retort, but when he stands up he sees Zayn next to Louis, a bit of a warning look on Zayn's face.

"S'go upstairs," Zayn says when their eyes meet, and beside him Louis nods, looking uncharacteristically subdued. Liam holds Zayn's eyes for a long moment before he nods as well.

"Yeah, let's go," he replies, leading the other two toward the elevator.

The ride up is oddly quiet, especially considering Louis is in attendance. When they get to Harry's room they find Harry (dressed now, thankfully) and Niall asleep in the bed, propped up against the headboard with the rugby on telly. Harry's head is tucked up against Niall's shoulder, and it's such a familiar sight, the two of them sharing space like this. It makes Liam feel sort of hopeful, like maybe things might not be so bad, like everything's going to be okay.

He's watching when Louis goes to the side of the bed to wake Harry, so he notices Louis hesitate as he stares down at Harry and Niall cuddled up together. He can't really see Louis' face, but there's something curious all the same, and Liam's about to ask what's wrong when Louis reaches out and cups Harry's jaw, stroking it gently.

"Haz?" Louis whispers, his thumb brushing over Harry's cheekbone. "Hazza, wake up." Harry's chest rises higher in a deep breath, and then Harry's eyes blink open, big and sleepy. He makes a rough little sound, closing his eyes for a moment, and then he lifts his head to look right at Louis.

It's not the first time Liam's seen this expression on Harry's face, like everything around him is gone and Louis is the only thing in his universe. Liam's always assumed it's hero worship, because Harry's been Louis' biggest fan since they all met. But this time Liam sees something else there, something a lot more fragile. It makes Liam suddenly feel like an intruder and he turns away, looking over to where Zayn's pulling clothes out of a shopping bag, laying them out on the end of the bed.

His attention is drawn back when Niall sort of coughs himself awake, his head having dropped the opposite way when Harry sat up. "Time's it?" he asks, voice rough with sleep.

"Just after four," Louis answers, stepping away from the bed, turning his back. A flash of hurt crosses Harry's face when he does, so quickly Liam's sure he wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been looking.

"Get anything good?" Niall asks as he kneels up on the mattress, knee-walking over to where Zayn's arranging bras and knickers (matched sets, because Zayn insisted). Niall nicks a bra – pink with white pinstripes and a little bow between the cups – and turns it over in his hands. "Don't think this one's gonna fit," he comments, turning it around and slipping it up his arms, holding it in place on his chest.

"S'not for you," Zayn retorts, holding his hand out. Niall sighs and slips it off, handing it back to Zayn.

"I didn't mean _me_ ," Niall says, sitting back on the bed with a thump, the mattress bouncing.

"We got different sizes," Zayn explains, placing the pink bra back with its matching bottoms.

"I made Zayn try them on," Liam chimes in. "Like, his chest is the narrowest," he adds when Niall gives him a strange look.

"Got us kicked out of the lingerie department," Zayn says, glancing at Liam. "Thought we were mucking about."

"I tried to tell them we were shopping for my sister," Liam replies with a shrug.

"Rubbish liar, you are," Zayn says, but he's got a fond smile curving his lips and Liam feels himself blush a little.

"Anyway," Liam goes on, face still a bit warm, "Harry, want to try some of these on?"

Harry, still leant silently against the headboard, meets Liam's eyes. "What'd you get bras for?" he asks, tone a little irritated. "Aren't we dressing me like a boy?"

Liam blinks, the question and Harry's mood catching him a bit off guard. "Well, yeah, right. Just, you know, we thought it might be more comfortable. Under your clothes and stuff."

Harry rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to retort, but he catches Zayn's gaze and something there silences him. He crawls out of bed to join Liam and Zayn at the foot, tugging his shirt off without preamble. "Let's get on with it then," he says, ignoring the way Niall chokes on his breath at the sudden reappearance of naked breasts.

It turns out they did a pretty terrible job with the bras, but there's one in the bunch that fits for the most part (it's slightly too big, more so on the left, and Liam's shocked to discover girls' boobs could be lopsided like that). Zayn manages to get Harry to put on the matching pants as well, and once they're on together Harry looks rather like a model, slim and a little curvy. For the first time Liam feels a weird twinge of attraction, and he has to close his eyes and count backwards from twenty to keep his teenaged body from reacting inappropriately.

Niall, on the other hand, isn't really bothering to disguise his reaction, shifting on the bed and pulling at his jogging bottoms periodically. Liam feels bad for him, honestly, because he's clearly having a difficult time separating the Harry they all know from the body he now inhabits. Luckily it doesn't seem to be making Harry uncomfortable.

Louis, however, won't stop pacing, arms crossed over his chest. He looks like a caged animal, anxious and impatient. Liam's not sure if it's to do with Zayn's enthusiasm in dressing Harry up or Niall's behavior, but he does not look pleased.

By and by they get Harry into a pair of well-fitted skinny jeans (they're too long, but that won't be difficult to remedy) and a girl's blazer that's not too far off the one he wears on stage. His breasts are way too obvious with the bra on, however, even under the tight black tee they put him in. They're discussing what to do about the problem when Louis hands Liam a couple of elastic bandages.

"Where'd these come from?" Liam asks.

"I got them at ASDA," Louis replies, tone short. "While you and Zayn were fucking about in H&M."

"What're you gonna do with those?" Niall asks, pretending he wasn't just staring at Harry's ass.

"Strap 'em down," Zayn answers. "Harry, take your top off."

It takes both Liam and Zayn to get the bandages wrapped around Harry's chest, and while Zayn seems like he's lost in the task of it, Liam finds himself flustered the entire time, embarrassed and guilty whenever he accidentally brushes Harry's skin. Once they're finished Harry puts his t-shirt and jacket back on and it's actually not bad. Obviously there's still a bit of a rise across Harry's chest, but it's much less noticeable now beneath the blazer.

"How's it look?" Harry asks, tipping his head down to survey his torso.

"I think we've smashed it," Liam replies. "I mean, good as we can, anyway."

"Looks wicked," Zayn agrees. "Almost normal Harry, like."

"Bit hard to breathe," Harry says, opening the jacket and pressing his hands down over the binding on his chest. "But I think I can manage."

"Sick!" Niall weighs in as Harry turns around to show him.

"This is fucking bullshit," Louis snaps, causing all of them to turn and face him. "He doesn't look like Harry at all. And you're all massive idiots if you think this is going to even remotely work."

Liam can feel anger radiating off Louis, but he doesn't understand it at all. "We're all just trying to make the best of an extraordinary situation," he says, tone diplomatic.

"Yeah, well, as adorable as that is, you know we can't pull this off. Pretending we can is just moronic. And a waste of time."

"D'you have a better idea?" Liam asks, trying to keep his growing irritation in check. "Because I don't. And as moronic as it is, at least it's _something_."

"You have to be so fucking optimistic all the time, don't you?" Louis accuses, taking a step closer to Liam. "But the reality here is that we're fucked. One Direction is fucked, Liam, because we can't _be_ One Direction without Harry. And he's not Harry anymore, he's _not_." He stops, for a moment, and it's clear he's really upset, veins standing out in his neck, his breathing hectic. "All these dreams we have, they're over," he goes on, his voice lowered, angry and hurt. "We have to stop kidding ourselves and face that fact. Everything is ruined, Liam, because of one bad decision."

Liam blinks, confused by the last bit. He opens his mouth to speak, but doesn't get the chance.

"Bad decision?" Harry's cuts in, tone high and kind of broken, and Liam turns to look at him. He's standing with his hands on his hips, and there are definitely tears in his eyes. "Are you blaming me for this?" he asks Louis, and he's shaking hard enough it makes his voice quaver.

Liam turns back to Louis who looks stunned now, his mouth working but nothing coming out for a long moment. "I– No. I'm not blaming you, Harry–" he starts, but Harry interrupts him again.

"Oh, right. Right, I see what you're saying," he snaps bitterly, and a tear breaks free and skips down his cheek.

"It's my fault," Louis insists, and Liam's more than a little confused, but he's not about to ask questions, not in the middle of whatever's going on here. "I'm the one who made a mistake. And now look at us? Look at _you_."

"What's he talking about?" Niall asks, but neither Harry nor Louis acknowledge him.

"Mistake," Harry repeats with a scornful smile on his face. "Right. Fuck you."

Louis doesn't reply, just shakes his head, easy to tell by his expression that he's keeping a whole lot of angry, cruel things behind his tightly pursed lips. Glancing at Liam, Louis pushes past, yanking the door open and disappearing into the hall without so much as a look back.

"Louis?" Zayn calls after him, catching the door before it closes and following him into the corridor. He comes back a couple of seconds later, frowning. "Says he's going for a walk," he tells the room at large, Liam and Niall still stunned into silence and Harry visibly fuming.

"Harry?" Niall asks, quiet and timid, and Harry waves him off.

"Don't ask, please," he implores, his face tipped down toward the carpet. "Just… Louis's a twat," he manages, his voice wavering.

So they don't ask, even as curious as they all are. They're all new friends, going from strangers to extremely close very quickly. There aren't any inside jokes that don't go through all five of them, so the secrecy is not only shocking, but hurtful. Only Harry's so upset that Liam doesn't want to press the issue. Zayn helps him out of his clothes and Niall orders dinner and they try to pretend that things aren't a complete mess.

After they eat, Niall finds a Will Ferrell movie on the telly and he pulls Harry down by his side to watch, Harry curling almost immediately into Niall. Being the youngest, the two of them tend to comfort each other when they're feeling particularly sensitive, when they're homesick or stressed out or overtired, so Liam thinks nothing of it, merely content to pretend there's some bit of normalcy in all this.

The room is quiet beyond the sound of the movie and Liam's able to let go a little, sat on the floor in front of Zayn who's in a chair. It shocks him a little when Zayn reaches down to touch him, strong fingers working out the knots in Liam's shoulders; he'd forgotten Zayn had offered to do this for him hours ago. He feels just a little guilty when he lets his head drop forward, eyes closing as he relaxes into it, letting himself indulge.

He knows it's wrong, as screwed up as everything is, but he lives for these moments, feeling Zayn's touch, being the focus of Zayn's attention. It's been such a long day, so many emotions running high, that it feels amazingly good to just _be_ on a physical level. Zayn's fingers are warm and sure, and when they move up to the back of Liam's neck he has to bite his lip to stop himself from moaning. He doesn't have the energy to keep his body from reacting, and he can feel his breathing beginning to quicken, pulse throbbing between his legs as he starts to get hard.

Zayn's thumbs move to Liam's hairline, the pads working in circles up to the base of Liam's skull, and Liam's toes curl in his shoes, his entire body humming. He's really starting to worry about how he's going to continue to cope with this when Zayn suddenly stops touching him all together. Liam panics, sitting up straight, certain Zayn's noticed his reaction, maybe even knows how turned on Liam is and is freaked out or disgusted or both. Swallowing hard, Liam turns his head to explain, but Zayn's not looking at him. Instead he's holding his phone, keying something into it.

"Louis's in the other room," he tells Liam, his voice low enough that Harry and Niall don't hear. "Just needs some space, I think."

"Oh," Liam replies, clearing his throat. "Understandable."

"Yeah," Zayn agrees, and the look he shares with Liam says all the things Liam's thinking: wondering what's going on, worried about Louis, about Harry, about the future of the group. He really wishes he and Zayn were alone, that they could talk some about how they're really feeling without potentially upsetting Harry further. And, if Liam's honest with himself, he'd love to just be close to Zayn with no one watching. He knows he can't have the things he really wants (for so many reasons), but he can't help longing for Zayn's undivided focus, for the opportunity to touch Zayn without worrying what other people might think.

Zayn looks like he might be ready to say something else when there's an insistent knock at the door. "I've got it," Zayn offers, carefully moving out from behind Liam and crossing to the door. "Probably Louis," he adds, taking the time to look through the peephole.

"Shit," he swears a moment later, loud enough that everyone turns to look at him. "S'Nigel," he explains, and Liam scrambles up off the floor.

"Tell him to go away!" Niall exclaims in a high whisper, one hand gripping Harry's arm tightly.

"We can't," Liam replies, lowering his voice as well. "He caught us coming back from the shop. He's here to check on Harry."

"Well obviously he can't!" Harry states, his eyes going wide with panic as there's another rap at the door, Nigel's voice clear through the wood.

"Lads? Open up! I know you're in there."

"Just a second!" Liam shouts back, trying to buy them a little time. He's thinking frantically, casting his gaze around when an idea finally comes to him. "Harry, get into the toilet," he orders. "Pretend you're being sick."

There's a moment where no one moves, and then Harry's up off the bed in a flash, dashing across the room into the en suite. "Have I got to make noises?" he asks as he moves to close the door behind him.

"That's brilliant!" Liam agrees. "Yes, make noises! But don't over-do it," he adds quickly, Harry disappearing behind the door.

A second later, once the other boys have taken a breath, Zayn lets Nigel into the room.

"Sorry 'bout that," he says. "Harry's just gone to puke again."

It's clear Harry's listening, because he promptly makes a very realistic vomiting noise, followed by a cough.

"Oh, dear," Nigel says, crossing to the toilet. He goes immediately for the knob and Liam nearly has a heart attack until Nigel finds it's been locked. "Harry?" he calls, glancing back at the others for a moment. "You okay?"

Harry answers with another retching sound, then a soft whimper. "Fine," he says weakly, and he might sound a little feminine, but it's so pitiful it actually works.

"Has he been able to keep anything down?" Nigel asks, turning and looking right at Liam.

"Kept his lunch in," Niall offers, and Liam breathes a sigh of relief. "Must be a relapse."

Nigel looks concerned, glancing back at the door separating Harry from the rest of them. "I'm really starting to think he needs a doctor," he says, and Liam's not sure how they're going to keep dodging this, completely out of ideas.

"Not tonight," Zayn says. "It's just he's so tired," he goes on, his eyes sincere and compassionate. "Wait 'til morning at least, yeah?"

Nigel holds Zayn's gaze a moment, then nods. "Yeah, alright. Poor chap." He turns, addressing Harry again and saying, "Get some rest, Harry. We'll get you to a doctor tomorrow."

"Thank you, Nigel," Harry replies, his voice still sounding appropriately weak.

Nigel leaves then without further comment, and once he's gone Harry reemerges from the toilet looking frazzled.

"We'll have to tell them tomorrow," he says, and it's exactly what the rest of them are thinking. There's no way they can get away with this anymore, not as insistent as Nigel's being.

"We should probably get some sleep then," Liam suggests, because if the rest of them are half as exhausted as he is they've got to be ready to drop.

"What about Louis?" Harry asks, and his expression is conflicted, still angry and sad, but Liam thinks he looks a bit worried as well.

"He's in the other room," Zayn tells Harry carefully. "Probably gonna stay there tonight."

Harry frowns, nodding, and Niall wraps his arm around Harry's shoulders.

"I'll stay here tonight if you want, Hazza," he offers, and Liam can see Harry physically sink into Niall's embrace.

"That's a good idea," Liam agrees. "There's not enough space in the other room anyway. Unless you want to sleep in the bath, Niall," he adds with a smirk.

It has it's intended effect as Niall laughs out loud, causing Harry to smile a little. "That's your domain, Payno," Niall replies and Liam feels himself grinning too.

He and Zayn gather their things, and a moment later they're headed back to their own room. He doesn't feel as bad leaving Harry knowing Niall's there with him; Niall will be gentle with him, might even be able to take his mind off things a little. Or at least Liam hopes so, considering what's to come in the morning.

:::

Curled up on the bed with Niall after the others have left, Harry lets himself mope. The telly's still on and Niall at least seems interested in what's happening in whatever film it is he's supposed to be paying attention to, but Harry can't stop thinking about Louis, how angry he'd been, how upset. It's nearly all he's thought about since Louis stormed out of the room hours ago. He wonders if Zayn and Liam are talking to him now or if he's gone to sleep already, wonders if they're asking what he'd meant by what he'd said earlier because Harry's sure they're all curious.

And, if he's completely honest, he'd also like to know what Louis had meant.

Because whatever it is that's caused this, if it's something in Harry's blood or something Louis passed on or whatever, Harry still can't find it in himself to regret a moment. He's been wanting it for weeks now, aching to take this crackling, intense _thing_ with Louis to the next level, and it had been perfect. Every part of it. Right up until he spontaneously changed genatalia.

There has to be a way to fix it, he's sure. They obviously haven't figured it out yet, but he's positive they will. In the meantime, he only wants Louis to not hate him. Moreover, he wants Louis to not think it's his fault. Because it isn't. It's nobody's fault. Even if Harry is some sort of freak of nature, he's still a person. He's still _Harry_. Surely Louis will see that in time.

"You doin' okay?" Niall asks after a long stretch of quiet and Harry sucks in a deep breath and nods.

"Tired," he says, burrowing into Niall's chest.

Niall nods, his hand a warm comfort on Harry's shoulder before he brushes his fingers through Harry's curls, tugging faintly. "Can sleep if you'd like."

It's more a question than a statement and Harry nods, still quiet as he pushes himself up to slide off the bed. He should probably shower, but the effort it would involve makes him even more exhausted and he settles for just brushing his teeth instead, staring at his reflection in the mirror the whole time, analyzing every curve and line all over again. He still can't shake the idea that it's not his face. Not really. He hopes he won't have to get used to it.

Niall's already in bed when he returns, duvet pulled up and telly off. Harry offers his best attempt at a smile and very nearly reaches to pull off his shirt before he catches himself. While Niall is as accustomed to him sleeping starkers as the rest of them, it's a bit different now. And given the way Niall's been visibly distressed all day, Harry really doesn't want to make it any worse. Especially considering how much more difficult tomorrow will be; they're both going to need their rest.

So Harry climbs in still dressed in his shirt and pants (a proper set of knickers, actually, black with big white flowers and lacy trim), pulls the covers up high to his chin as Niall reaches out to turn off the side lamp.

Harry still isn't used to the added weight on his chest when he lies on his side or the way his hip digs into the mattress and he tosses and turns a while before settling on his back, hands clasped over his belly.

"It's gonna be okay, you know," Niall says, barely more than a whisper, and Harry turns his head to look at him. "Even if we don't figure it out and you stay like this. It'll be okay."

In the dark and the quiet and with his chest still aching, Harry finds himself doubting for the first time, but he attempts a smile all the same, appreciative of Niall's efforts. "Cheers, mate," he says and resolutely works to ignore the sharp echo of Louis' voice in his head yelling, ' _Everything is ruined!_ ' as he tries to fall asleep.

It doesn't work too well, his mind refusing to quiet as the minutes tick by. Niall manages though, snoring softly where he's curled onto his side.

Harry dozes here and there, exhaustion overwhelming him in fits and starts before he wakes again, each time finding that little more than twenty or thirty minutes have passed. When the clock hits 2:45, he has a quick spark of hope that the whole ordeal might really be like a strange 24-hour virus, but three o'clock comes and goes with no change and when he closes his eyes and reawakens forty minutes later, he's still penis-less.

At some point in the night (or early morning, he's given up checking the clock) Harry wakes up strangled by his own shirt. Beside him Niall is still snoring, though it isn't too overwhelming, and Harry spares only a second or two of consideration before sitting up to wrestle free of the fabric, dropping it to the side of the bed before burrowing under the covers again. The fact that he succeeds in not waking Niall is both a blessing and a curse as the steady snoring continues.

Despite the noise, Harry's instantly more comfortable and he sinks into the bedding, managing to drift off for some undetermined amount of time. Of course, without the shirt, the shift and flop of his breasts is a lot more apparent and he finally resorts to lying flat on his back, hands crossed over his stomach.

Except that makes it a lot more difficult to muffle his ears against Niall's snoring and, eventually, Harry just can't deal anymore.

Rolling onto his side, he gives Niall's shoulder a nudge. Niall's only response is a snort and a grumble, face scrunching before he turns his head the other direction. The snoring, unfortunately, doesn't lessen in the process.

"Niall, mate, c'mon," Harry whines, curling his hand into a fist to punch him lightly in the arm. 

That succeeds in getting the job done, Niall's brow furrowing and lips curving downward as he blearily opens his eyes. "Wha'? Harreh?" he asks, and Harry does feel a little guilty for waking him, though it doesn't yet outweigh the momentary blessed relief of silence.

"You were snoring," Harry tells him, and he can't help but notice how cute Niall looks right now, half asleep and rumpled, creases on his cheek from the pillowcase and hair askew.

"Don't snore," Niall says with sleepy indignance, licking his lips, and Harry wants to argue with him, but he just laughs instead. Niall blinks hard a couple of times and then his eyes go a little wide.

"What?" Harry asks, and he can see Niall swallow hard.

"Where's your shirt?" he asks, his eyes straying down Harry's front. Harry follows his gaze, remembering waking in the night and stripping his top off.

"Oh, uh. It was choking me," Harry explains, and he expects Niall to nod and adjust his eyes, but he doesn't. He just keeps staring, eyes fixed on Harry's chest like he's never seen breasts before. "Uh, Niall?" he says, feeling more than a little uncomfortable under Niall's unwavering attention.

"God, you're killin' me," Niall says, licking his lips again, his voice rough. "Havin' those things out all the time like that."

"They're just boobs," Harry says, though he can't quite keep the smile off his face. It's a bit fun, really, to have this sort of effect on people. He's gotten a taste of it already, of course, just being on the show and seeing all the screaming girls both in the audience and outside the studio, the small hoards that follow them everywhere. It's not quite the same as this, though. None of those girls have ever looked like they're about to bust a nut in quite the way Niall does right now.

"You've touched a girl's boobs before, haven't you?" Harry continues, shifting just a little to slide closer as he props his head up with one arm. He knows Niall has before; they've all talked about it. And Niall, predictably, nods in reply.

"Been awhile though," he admits, his gaze dropping downward at Harry's chest once more. "And yours are, like... they're nicer than them. The ones I touched."

Harry bites back the impulse to laugh, but can't quite fight the smirk that curves his lips. This is just too easy. Too fun. He cups one of them in his free hand, the flesh warm and soft in his palm as he asks, "Are they?"

Niall closes his eyes tight and bites down on his lower lip, muttering a curse under his breath. "Killin' me," he repeats as he opens his eyes again. Harry can see that one of Niall's hands is curled into a fist, his knuckles white, and he feels a little bad, knowing intimately what it's like to be in Niall's position: horny and frustrated and at the mercy of a girl's teasing.

"So you wanna touch mine?" he asks, still groping himself a little, brushing his palm over his nipple and swallowing down the gasp it elicits. He can't help wanting to be fondled by someone else in this body. It feels so good, different and exciting, and he'd wanted it to be Louis (because he's always wanted it to be Louis), but it's obvious that's not an option, not given the way Louis's been acting. And here's Niall, one of his best mates, someone he cares about and trusts and likes, someone who _wants_ to touch him. They're alone in bed together, and there's no reason to not let himself give in.

"Do you?" he asks again, realizing Niall's not answered him yet. Niall's mouth has dropped open a little, his eyes focused on where Harry's fingers are pinching at his own nipple.

"Would you–" Niall starts, licking his lips again and turning his wide, earnest, trusting eyes up to Harry's. "You'd be okay with that?"

"Asked you, didn't I?" Harry says, though he's careful to keep his tone fond and not too biting. The last thing he wants is to make Niall feel bad for any of this. There's nothing weird going on, after all; Harry's still Harry even if his body isn't what he's used to. There's no reason for Niall to be worried.

But Niall still looks reluctant. Harry isn't actually sure he's even taken a breath since he last spoke. So, still smiling faintly, he reaches out for Niall's wrist, drawing his hand close.

"Hey, it's just me, right?" he says, turning his wrist enough to gently uncurl Niall's fingers until Niall finally seems to catch on. His cheeks are flushed that familiar pink and Harry watches him intently the whole time, Niall's gaze locked on their hands, lips parted as he finally remembers to breathe. "C'mon, Nialler. You've touched me loads of times, this isn't any big deal."

And those seem to be the magic words, Niall's eyes finally darting up to Harry's as a smile tugs at his lips. "Yeah, it's–" And then his hand is on Harry's left breast, warm and bigger than Harry's, fingertips lightly callused. Harry has to bite his own lip to keep from letting out a sound, arching into the touch just a little. "It's really... uh, no offense, Harry, but you're a lot prettier now than you've ever been."

Harry puts on a scowl, or he tries to, but Niall's thumb grazes the side of his nipple and he gasps before he can stop himself. Niall exhales roughly too, close enough now that the heat of it ghosts over Harry's cheek, and Harry has to make himself inhale.

"I've always been pretty," he says, trying to grouse, but it comes out breathless, and Niall doesn't really even seem to be paying attention to what he's saying. He's preoccupied with cupping his hand over Harry's breast, not squeezing so much as shifting the weight of it, pressing the heel of his palm over Harry's nipple which has tightened up into a hard nub already.

Niall licks his lips and drags his eyes up to Harry's face, and he looks shattered. It's not an expression Harry's ever seen on Niall before, the way his eyelids are low over his eyes, lips parted and face flushed. Harry's not sure why he does, but he looks down between them, and the sheets are still up around their waists, but Niall's other hand is pushed down below. He can't see what Niall's doing, but he has a pretty good idea.

"Fuck, sorry," Niall says, and it's a rough, heated whisper, his voice husky. "I'm sorry, Harry," he goes on, making a show of pulling his hand up where Harry can see it. He backs off altogether a second later, his hand releasing Harry's boob, and it sort of bounces as Niall lets it go, cold air shocking against the skin now that Niall's warmth is gone.

"No, hey, it's okay," Harry says before Niall can roll away completely. He's still all flushed, though Harry wonders how much of it is embarrassment now. Or maybe shame.

Luckily, it seems to work, Niall staying just exactly as he is, both hands up above the covers, held out like he's surrendering to something.

Harry swallows, suddenly unsure. There's a heat coursing all through him, a warmth pooling in the pit of his stomach, and he doesn't want to let it slip away. At the same time it's all very, very strange, feels weird to want in this body, to only have a sort of vague idea of what he's even craving.

At least Niall doesn't appear repulsed, and Harry's gaze drops downward again like he might be able to see below the sheets, see the evidence of it.

"You can keep touching if you want," Harry says, the words falling from his lips before he's put much thought in them. "Like, uh... you know. I don't mind it. Could, like. Don't really know what I'm doing much yet, but maybe we could together?"

Niall blinks back at him, and it's almost like he's shaking his head, even though he's not really moving. "I don't, I don't know what–" he's stammering and Harry's not sure what moves him to do it, but he reaches out and takes one of Niall's hands, the one nearest the mattress, and guides it beneath the blankets.

He looks up to meet Niall's eyes – wide and a little terrified, but dark – and Harry notices for the first time how pretty they are like that, so blue. It shakes him a little, but he forces himself to take a deep breath and press on, turning his gaze down and hoping Niall follows his lead. Releasing Niall's hand, he slides his own back toward himself, pressing his fingers against the warm cotton covering his crotch. He's only a little surprised to find the fabric damp, and he shoves his fingertips against it, seeking the wetness, the heat.

Flicking his eyes upward he confirms that Niall's watching and keeps his gaze on Niall's face as he shifts his hand up enough to get it down the front of his knickers. He pushes down through the curls covering his mound until he locates where it opens up, slick and soft beneath his fingertips. He exhales as he finds that spot he'd found earlier, his body tightening down the second he brushes it.

"God, oh god," Niall whimpers, and Harry looks down to where Niall's obviously taken himself in hand, though the sheets still obscure his view. He's honestly not sure if he wants to see it or not, but the idea of what Niall's doing makes something a little manic surge through him. It's not like anything he's ever felt before, the way his insides sort of clench, like everything's drawing up into a little ball at the center of his pelvis.

It takes him a moment to respond, breath catching in his throat as he touches that spot again – his clit, he mentally reminds himself – and starts circling with one finger. "Oh– okay?" he finally manages, biting back a whine as another wave of pleasure rockets through him.

Niall answers with a whimper and stilted nod, arm working furiously beneath the covers and Harry suddenly _longs_ for his cock, for how well he knows it, how easily he can get himself off. Unlike in his body where everything is different and strange and stupidly complicated. 

Frustrated, Harry bends one leg and spreads, his foot pressed to the mattress so he has a better angle on things. Beside him, Niall lets out a rough curse, the heat of it shooting straight through Harry's veins, and he pushes his fingers down lower, the tip of the middle one nudging the spongy, swollen area right around his hole he recognizes more from touching other girls than from touching himself.

"I think I– _Niall_ ," Harry gasps as he eases his finger in just a little. Every word is barely more than a rough sort of whisper, but Harry can't seem to keep his voice even at all. Not like this. "Have you, like. Have you ever touched a girl like this before? Like, her pussy?"

Niall sort of shakes his head, cheek still pressed against his pillow. "No," he grits out, and the flush on his face has started bleeding down his throat, splotches all along the collar of his tee. "Not, just… just over her knickers," he continues, the end of it trailing into a high, broken whine. Niall's mouth is sort of twisted now, almost like a grimace, and Harry knows that expression, has seen it on himself in his bedroom mirror more than a few times.

"God, it's like, it's like," Harry tries to explain, because he wants someone else to know how this feels, wants _Niall_ to know. He shifts his shoulder to push deeper, his entire finger slipping inside. "As soon as I've got something in me, I want _more_ ," he goes on, his tone pleading even though he's not sure if he's begging for Niall or just _something_ else. Niall responds with a little whimper, his eyes locked on Harry's as he listens, the bed shaking with the action of his arm moving against the mattress. "It's wet," Harry says, becoming more and more breathless. "It's wet and it's, it's so hot, Niall, and it's, like, I'm squeezing down. I need, I need–"

" _Harry_ ," Niall mewls, the word long and drawn out, cutting Harry off. His eyes clamp down tight and he sobs, does it again, then makes a string of broken little ' _ah ah ah_ ' sounds until his voice seems to strangle itself out as he shudders. Harry knows Niall's coming, and it should feel embarrassing or frustrating considering Harry's situation, but hearing it, watching Niall's face, it makes something hot and sharp surge in Harry's belly.

He slows his own touch to focus on Niall, one finger still half inside, moving idly as his lips twitch into a faint grin.

"Wow," he exhales on a breathy sort of laugh as Niall opens his eyes again, glassy and still so, so dark. "That gets you, does it? Thinking about touchin' a girl?"

"Harry," Niall replies and it sounds like a whine, but not a good one. More like he's embarrassed and wants Harry to stop teasing. Harry frowns slightly and shakes his head, shifts closer beneath the covers, his knee knocking against Niall's.

He murmurs an apology, but whether it's for the bump or for making Niall self-conscious, he doesn't clarify, and isn't really sure himself. At the moment, he's feeling a bit single-minded anyway, the pulsing need in his belly only intensifying as Niall holds his gaze, the familiar smell of spunk already lingering.

"You ever smelled a girl?" he asks as he slips his finger free and brings it up above the covers, taking an experimental sniff. It's a unique scent, he thinks, little musky and a little sweet, different from the few girls he's had a chance to get close to before. Hesitantly, he holds his hand out to Niall.

Niall leans in a little, still shaking, and inhales the scent off Harry's finger, his eyes closing as he does. "Smelled you earlier," he says, his voice rough, opening his eyes again. "On the bed," he clarifies, the end of his nose bumping Harry's fingertip.

Harry swallows, watches as Niall's eyes cross and then focus again on Harry's face. "Ever taste one?" he asks, and Niall's breath rushes out of him. Harry sees Niall's tongue come out to wet his lips, feels Niall exhale again hotly. A second later Niall's tongue touches the base of Harry's finger, and Harry can feel it trembling as it moves upward slowly.

"Yeah," Harry breathes in encouragement and Niall's tongue slides all the way up to the tip, sucking the end into his mouth for a second before he lets it go.

"H-Hazza," Niall whispers, swallowing hard.

Harry isn't sure if it's a plea, a question, or a simple acknowledgment, but something in the rough catch of Niall's voice fans the flame in Harry's gut and he launches forward, spit-slick finger skimming Niall's cheek as he crushes their lips together. It's sloppy and over-eager and entirely uncoordinated, but Harry can't fathom caring in the least, too desperate to just be closer, to get _more_ as quickly as possible.

He's kissed Niall before; Harry's kissed all the lads at one point or another, but never like this, not with intent. Not with anyone but Louis anyway, and he's not thinking about Louis right now. No. No Louis.

Niall falls back with a quiet, surprised grunt, his hands shifting to Harry's arms as Harry crawls atop him, one leg swung over his hips. Niall's never seemed particularly big or brawny in any way, certainly no bigger than Harry himself. But it's different now, Harry's hands so much _smaller_ as he grabs at the fabric of Niall's t-shirt.

"You should touch me," he murmurs between one clumsy kiss and the next, his knee digging into Niall's side a little. "If, like. If you want to. You can if you want to."

Niall's breathing is hectic, his chest heaving, and his hands slip off Harry's arms to light on Harry's hips for a moment before pushing the left one between Harry's thighs. Niall's turned his hand by the time it contacts Harry's crotch, the pads of his first two fingers bumping right into the middle of Harry through his underpants, making him yelp softly against Niall's wet, pliant mouth.

"Sorry," Niall says the same instant Harry groans, " _Yes_ ," and grinds down against Niall's touch. It's uncoordinated and Niall can't really do much but rub at Harry through the damp cotton of his knickers, but Harry doesn't care. He just keeps arching his hips, pushing down against the one point of contact Niall's giving him. It's not enough, not by a long shot, but having someone else's hands on him is driving Harry insane.

Niall fumbles for a few minutes, clearly trying to do his best to make Harry feel good despite the lack of space and odd angle and Harry kissing Niall messily, gasping and swearing into his mouth. And then, suddenly, Niall takes his hand away.

"Don't _stop_ ," Harry whines in protest, pulling back to see Niall's face as Niall shakes his head, both hands on Harry's hips again. He's about to ask what the bloody problem is when Niall sort of nudges Harry up, shifts his own hips and then pulls Harry back down. There's a rigid heat beneath him that Harry knows instantly is Niall's willy, and it's pure instinct that has him rocking downward, grinding himself against Niall's dick, the friction maddening even between two layers of fabric. It feels thicker than he would've guessed, though he isn't sure if that's because of his new body or if he's been underestimating Niall all this time. Even so it's not enough, and Harry feels a little wild with need as he yanks and tugs at Niall's shirt, rolling his hips back and forward again in a slow rhythm.

"Jesus, I can, like, I can feel you," Niall gasps beneath him, eyes blown nearly black as he grips at Harry's hips.

Harry lets out a laugh, insanely turned on and not a little bit delirious with it. "Yeah, should hope so."

"No, like," Niall says, moving one hand from Harry's hip down to where their bodies rub together, wrist twisted just right so that Harry is reacquainted with those same two fingers, pressed up against the front of him. "The wet of you. Like, through my pants."

"Oh, _fuck_ ," Harry groans, crumpling forward a little and staring down to watch before he whines again. "Fuck, Niall. I need, god, I need something in me. Please. _Please_. Put your finger in me."

Niall rubs at Harry once more, and Harry's not sure if he's dithering or not, if he's trying to find a nice way to say he doesn't want to do that, not with Harry. But a moment later Niall arches his hips up, grinding himself against Harry's crotch a final time before he sort of half sits and says, "Lay down," in a rush, strong hands on Harry's hips urging him up.

Harry complies, scrambling off Niall's lap and twisting to flop back onto the bed while Niall pushes all the way sitting and yanks his t-shirt over his head. His hair's a mess and his neck and chest are mottled with a flush. Normally it would be something Harry would laugh about and tease Niall for, but right now all Harry wants is Niall _on_ him again, wants Niall's hands and mouth and long, blunt fingers in that place Harry can't seem to reach.

Niall's shaking as he pushes a hand down between them, brushing the lace edging of Harry's knickers before drawing back. "You should get them off," he says, his voice trembling, and Harry sees nervousness in Niall's eyes. It almost makes him think of stopping, or at least taking a step back, but then he notices the obscene way Niall's cock is tenting the front of his pants and Harry knows that, while he may be nervous, Niall _wants_ this.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Harry hooks his thumbs in the waistband of his knickers and lifts his hips, sliding them off in way he intends to be quite smooth, but in fact ends with his ankles getting tangled for a bit. 

Niall snorts out a fond, "Idiot," which Harry can't let pass without punching Niall in the arm. But Niall barely seems to register it, moving to shove his own underpants down and off, hovering over Harry again a moment later, one knee between his thighs. And, wow, Niall really does have some nice biceps. Harry makes a mental note to compliment him later, when he's not so busy burning up from the inside.

Anyway Niall seems pretty focused himself, his gaze traveling up and down the length of Harry in a way Harry can only describe as _hungrily_ , and he arches under the weight of it, impatient.

"C'mon," he whines finally, grabbing at Niall's side with one hand and reaching down with the other as he spreads wider. He's _sopping_ now, can't decide if it's hot or embarrassing or both, and his fingers slip through the mess easily, one easing in right up to the knuckle. "C'mon, Niall. Know you want it. Seen it written all over you all day, mate. Fuckin' _touch_ me."

"Don't get your get knickers in a twist," Niall retorts, laughing before he's even through saying it. Harry barks his own laugh at the same time, the action causing his body to clench around his own finger, and it feels good in a different way, making him moan.

Niall's still smiling when he lowers himself a bit further, turning his eyes down to see what he's doing. He slides his hand very carefully up the inside of Harry's thigh, still shaking when he reaches Harry's crotch. He sucks a gasp when his fingers slip shallowly between the folds of skin, hand bumping against Harry's.

"Christ," Niall breathes, moving around a little like he's searching, and while Harry finds it sort of endearing that Niall's fumbling and unsure, he doesn't have any patience left. Pulling his own finger out, he grabs Niall's, guiding them as best he can without being able to see.

"In, fuck, come _on_ ," Harry groans. Niall adjusts before pushing, and _fuck_ , there it is, finally. It's only two of Niall's fingers, but it feels so good that Harry moans out loudly, his pelvis lifting off the bed. "God, yes, _yes_ ," he gasps, looking up at Niall's absolutely wrecked expression, his pupils blown and eyes wide.

They just stare at each other for a bit, Harry's heart hammering and muscles clenching. He has a loose grip on Niall's wrist, but he really can't do much but feel for the moment, hips rocking upward, keeping Niall inside as best he can.

"Is it, like… is it okay?" Niall asks, his voice thick and strained. He crooks his fingers just slightly and Harry feels it like a wave, back arching again as he presses down with a rough, desperate nod.

"So, _so_ okay. More than okay. Holy fuck, I had no idea it could feel like this."

That seems to be enough to make Niall relax, his other arm shifting up to rest near Harry's head as he leans in closer. "Like how? What's it like, Haz?"

Harry can only reply with another whine when Niall starts moving his fingers, pulling them back and then in again in a slow, steady rhythm. Harry rests his own hand low on his belly, right above the mound of his pussy, moves his hips against Niall's touch. "Shit, like. I can't even explain it. Like it's all over. Weird and invasive and it's–" He cuts off on a moan, his back arching, the sound breaking off into a surprised whimper when he feels Niall's mouth on his left breast. " _Oh fuck_. Fuck. Faster, babe. You can go faster. Hard– Harder."

Niall growls, his face still buried against Harry's chest, and he does exactly what Harry asks, first moving faster and then colliding with Harry's body a little harder. He starts careful but is quickly spurred on by the sounds Harry makes, moaning and bucking into Niall's hand. Soon enough he's giving it to Harry just the way Harry wants it, a little rough, deeper and deeper as he goes.

Niall is panting against Harry's boob as he moves, eventually pulling back to breathe as he pumps his fingers in and out. Harry can see how hard Niall's working by the clench of his bicep, the sheen of sweat that's broken out across his face. "Fuck, you feel so good," Niall says, his voice thin and breathy. "You're so, so wet and, and…" Niall tries, and Harry thinks he must be attempting dirty talk, but he can't seem to stay on track long enough to get anywhere with it.

"Yeah? And?" Harry tries to prompt him, his voice broken by the way Niall's fucking into him. It feels amazing, pleasure ebbing and flowing, but it never seems to get past a point before it edges away.

"And, like," Niall pants, sweat beading from his temple down the line of his jaw, "like, _gorgeous_."

Despite himself, Harry snorts a laugh. "Need to work on your bedroom talk, mate," he says, teasing, though the sort of wounded frown Niall gives in return has him reaching up to sink his fingers into Niall's sweat-damp hair, pulling him into a greedy kiss. 

They've found a good rhythm now, Harry's hips arching up to meet each push of Niall's fingers. But despite Niall's best efforts (and he's really doing an admirable job, honestly; Harry's right impressed), it's still not quite _enough_. He tries shifting the angle of his hips, draws his knee up higher, holding himself open. The wet sound of Niall finger fucking him makes his head spin and he laughs again, delighted and frustrated in equal amounts.

"Niall," he groans, tipping his head back as he curls a hand around Niall's nape, holding on tight. "If you want, like. You can put it in. There's protection, uhm. In the drawer."

Niall makes a blunt, thick sound at the question, his eyes going wide again, mouth dropping open. "You, you mean..." he stammers and Harry nods, grinding himself down on Niall's stilled fingers.

"Yeah," he says, swallowing. "I want it, wanna feel it, what it's like," he adds, tugging at the back of Niall's neck.

Niall takes a breath, slow and deep, and Harry can see him hesitating. "It's okay if you don't want to," he says, though he can feel disappointment flooding into his chest. "I know, like. I'm sure this isn't how you imagined–"

"I want to," Niall cuts him off. "I mean, it's... Always thought it'd be someone I was close to, like..." He shakes his head a laughs a little nervously. "Never thought it'd be someone as close to me as you," he admits, and Harry feels a strange twinge of utter fondness.

"Perfect then, isn't it?" he says, shifting his hand to Niall's cheek, cupping it. He likes Niall, has always liked him, trusts him and feels comfortable with him. It really is perfect, getting to do this with him, knowing Niall cares about him and has no ulterior motives.

"Yeah," Niall agrees, nodding, his eyes moving over Harry's face. He takes another breath and then eases away. When his fingers slide out Harry sobs softly, the suddenly emptiness making him shiver.

He settles a hand over himself almost protectively, jolts a little when his fingertip accidentally brushes over sensitive, swollen skin. Niall's turned away to open the bedside drawer and Harry has to actively fight the ache that hits as he remembers the last time that drawer was opened, Louis grappling blindly to pull out the lube and condoms, the laugh they'd shared together before Louis rolled onto his belly and started demanding.

It feels almost like it happened to someone else, a whole different lifetime now, and Harry shoves it aside to focus on the long line of Niall's back, the strength in his arms and shoulders so different from Louis'.

"Yeah," he says after a moment, a breath of encouragement intended for the both of them as Niall comes away with a single foil packet, naked as he kneels between Harry's legs.

"I've never even put one of these on before," Niall confesses. Harry feels all his own trepidation bleed away at the sight of Niall, sweet and earnest and clearly so, so nervous as he carefully frees the condom. Niall really isn't much older than him at all which, oddly, Harry sort of appreciates right now. Unlike with Louis, Harry feels like he's the experienced one, like he actually has an idea of what he's doing even if absolutely everything has been turned on its head.

Pushing himself up, Harry offers a warm smile as he takes the condom from Niall. Whispers, "Here, I've got it," before carefully slipping it onto Niall's length, one hand curled in a loose fist, the lube-tacky latex smoothing as he strokes.

Niall's eyes are turned down as he watches Harry secure the base of the condom, and Harry's memory sparks again, about doing this to himself for the first time only a day ago. Acting like he knows what he's doing is helping some, but he still feels a little raw. It's so unfair the way his first time got spoiled, his body betraying him in a way no one could ever have expected. He's not sure if giving Niall a better experience will make up for it, but he wants to try.

With one last squeeze, Harry lets Niall go, watching the way Niall's cock sort of twitches and bobs at the loss of Harry's touch. "I, uh," Niall breathes, looking down at Harry's face. "Do I need to do anything or can I just..." he trails off, looking down toward his dick vaguely.

"I have no idea," Harry answers with a laugh, remembering a moment later that he's supposed to have done this with a girl and he _should_ know how this works. With Louis there'd been a lot more prep before he could get going, obviously, but he's not entirely sure what girls need. Niall's two fingers had gone in easy enough, and he's really, really wet, so much so that he can feel it from the inside.

"I mean, it was all sort of a blur the other night," he says. "I just, like. I just did it. And she didn't complain so..."

"Alright," Niall replies, taking another long, deep breath. "Okay," he goes on, clearly trying to calm himself. Shifting, he places his right hand next to Harry's shoulder, reaches down with his left to take hold of himself.

And that's when Harry starts to feel a little scared, heartbeat fluttering in his throat. He doesn't know how this is going to feel; it could be just as good as when Niall was fingering him, better even, or it could hurt. As far as this is concerned Harry's still a virgin, and he's seen enough telly to know that the first time for a girl isn't always entirely pleasant.

"Maybe, uh... go a bit slow," he says, hoping Niall doesn't hear the slight tremor in his voice and lose the nerve. Because, however scared he might suddenly be, Harry does want it. And not just for Niall, but for himself, too. There's still the hope he won't be stuck in this body forever so he might as well make good use of it while he can and, in Harry's mind, best use definitely involves sex and hopefully orgasms. 

Niall nods, a quick, jerky movement as he kneels up closer and reaches down, head ducked so all Harry can see is the top of his messy, bleached-blond head. Pulling in a breath, Harry drops his own back against the pillow and closes his eyes, bites his lip when he feels the thick tip of Niall's cock nudging at his folds. Niall curses faintly and Harry calms enough to shush him, whispering, "It's cool, it's cool. Just– yeah, just like that. Just– _ohh_."

It burns at first, a steady, unyielding stretch that makes every muscle in Harry's body tighten. And Niall's going slow, Harry can tell, probably as slow as he can manage. But fuck, it's a lot. So, so much more than just two fingers.

"Harry," Niall whispers, his voice ragged, and Harry finally opens his eyes, sees Niall's dark and awed as he stares right back down at him. " _Fuck_ , Harry. I don't– I don't think I'm gonna, like. I'm not gonna be able to hold it for long."

Harry nods up at him, because that's something he remembers very well from the other night. As ready as he thought he was for it, feeling the hot, tight clench of another person's body close around him was more overwhelming than he ever imagined it could be, not just biologically, but emotionally. He can see all of that in Niall's expression, can feel it in the way Niall's shaking, the quick, hard intake of Niall's breathing.

"It's okay," he says, and he's not sure what compels him, but he tilts his pelvis and lifts his legs, wrapping them low around Niall's waist. It makes Niall's cock slip deeper inside and they both cry out, their mouths close enough to taste each other's breath. "It's okay," Harry repeats, his voice lower, deepened with emotion. "God, Niall," he whines. "Just move."

So Niall does, though only barely, shifting back and then pushing deep. But even that small motion makes them both moan, Harry's eyes rolling back as pleasure sparks behind them. There's some pain too, but it's not really bad. It's more of the burning from before, and he's just so _full_ , stretched to what feels like the brink. He feels suddenly strangely bad for Louis, because his own cock is – _was_ , he reminds himself – quite a bit bigger than Niall's.

He doesn't spend a lot of time ruminating on it, however, because that one thrust must have gotten into Niall's veins. He starts moving without pause, and though he's not pulling out far, he's rolling back into Harry at a steady pace already, his breath rushing out each time he pushes deep. "Harry, Harry," he chants, and any pain Harry was feeling is gone, completely replaced by the throbbing pressure building inside him. He feels like his lower body is on fire, like all of his blood is down there rushing, and he can hear himself moaning, begging for more like he's outside himself.

He grabs at Niall's sides, back bowing as Niall drives in harder and faster, grunting with the effort. Every thrust makes Harry's chest move, boobs bouncing in counter rhythm before he crosses an arm over himself, his other hand pressed to the muscles of Niall's abdomen. Every nerve feels like it's alight, burning slowly down to the quick, down to the center of him where Niall's fucking in hard and fast and perfect. And, fuck, it's right there, he's right there, he can feel it catch at the base of his spine, familiar enough to not be surprising until it's crashing over, legs locking tight around Niall's hips as white explodes behind his eyelids. It's far more intense than he's expecting, far more than _anything_ he's expecting really, his whole body pulsing, vibrating, and he's still so fucking _full_.

"Niall," he whispers, weakly blinking his eyes open. He feels shattered, split open in the best way, and Niall only answers with a desperate, choked sort of groan before shoving forward and shaking.

Harry tenses instinctively though his muscles feel pretty useless, breathing a shocked little _ohhh_ as Niall grinds out his orgasm, his cock somehow impossibly bigger inside Harry's body. Harry watches it unfold on Niall's face above him, and it looks like Niall's about to cry, pleasure splintered across his features so fiercely it almost looks like pain. He's gasping around it, a string of almost words, syllables that might be aborted attempts at Harry's name or broken curses.

"Oh– oh my god," he groans when Niall sobs once and finally slows to a stop. Harry's still pulsing, can feel it down below, like his muscles are clinging, sucking at Niall's dick without his control. He's still trying to catch his breath when Niall's sagging weight and the stretch of Niall inside him start to become a little too much, and he nudges at Niall gently but insistently, tilting his hips away.

"Shit, sorry," Niall groans, sounding about as wrung out as Harry feels. When he pulls out, the sudden lack is even more intense than before, but it's not bad, need no longer clawing at Harry from the inside. It's more like relief, really. Or just a sort of bone-deep satisfaction.

Harry lets his legs drop to the mattress and Niall collapses beside him, Harry humming as his eyes drift closed. He pulls in one deep breath after the next, feels the rapid _thump-thump-thump_ of his heartbeat beneath his fingertips, gradually slowing to a more even pace.

"Mmm, well that was-- _Aughhh!_ "

He's cut off by a sudden, violent wave of pain, throat closing up as every muscle siezes, leaving him writhing and clawing at the bedding. It's in every cell of his body, scraping at his bones, slicing through tissue and muscle, razorblades in his bloodstream. He's only very distantly aware that he's not the only one screaming before it's all gone just as quickly.

He's still shaking when it's over, shivering in a sheen of sweat, and he rolls over to see Niall beside him, blue eyes wide and terrified and–

"Oh, fuck," Harry breathes and, hey, that's his voice, his real voice, low and familiar and right. But he only has about a second of relief before Niall whimpers in confusion, looks down at himself and–

" _HARRY!_ "

Niall, it turns out, is just as loud as a girl, but the pitch of his voice is a whole lot higher.

"Harry, what did you do? _Fuck, what did you do to me??_ Oh my god, I– I've– _Oh my god._ "

He's scrambling on the bed, kicking at the sheets until his shoulder hits the headboard hard enough to make Harry wince in sympathy. It's like he's trying to get away from himself, swiping at his bare arms and legs which, Harry can't help but notice, are really quite nice. His hair is unchanged and it looks good on him like this, like a cute pixie cut that really enhances the softer line of his jaw and round blue eyes. He's got pale, perky little boobs that are a lot smaller than Harry's had been, a fact that makes him feel oddly smug.

"Oh my god," Niall says again, like it's all he _can_ say. He's touching his face now, eyes wide and terrified as he pats at his cheeks and chin and eyebrows. "Harry! Harry, I can't– I'm not like you, I can't handle this, I can't– Oh, _fuck._ "

"Niall. Mate. Calm down, you'll wake the whole bloody hotel."

" _Calm down?!_ " Niall shrieks (Harry really can't think of any other way to describe it), his face a fiery red. "Don't you fuckin' shush me! It's your fault I've, I've– You and that bloody fucking witch of yours!"

"For the last time, I _didn't fuck a witch!_ "

"You did!" Niall retorts, stumbling off the bed and walking backwards, nearly tripping over the dresser in the process. "There's no other explanation! You fucked a witch and now you're cursed and you've cursed _me_ and probably anyone else who ever... oh god, this is like the worst sexually transmitted disease ever."

If he's honest, Harry knows he really can't blame Niall for losing it. He'd been more than a little panicked himself, after all. Who wouldn't be?

Unfortunately, he also doesn't know how to make it better. According to the clock it's barely even six in the morning and the absolute last thing they need is someone calling in a disturbance or, worse, management breaking down the door to find out why there's an Irish girl screaming bloody murder in their room. 

"Niall, please," he says, careful to keep his voice quiet as he starts approaching him slowly, like Niall's some kind of wounded animal. "Fussing isn't going to make it go away."

"I have every right to be fussing," Niall protests, one arm wrapped protectively around his middle. "I'm proper freaked the fuck out right now!" 

"Yeah, I know," Harry agrees quickly. "Totally entitled, very true. But, like. You've got to stop shouting. Please."

"I'm _cursed_! By you and your fuckin' witch STD!"

Harry draws up every ounce of willpower in him to keep from rolling his eyes and takes a second to consider, mentally weighing the pros and cons of just telling Niall the truth. Louis had made it obvious he wants to keep what happened a secret and, as much as Harry hates the very idea of keeping any part of what they are quiet, he hadn't really been in the proper mindset to argue yesterday. And, honestly, Harry doesn't really want the other lads to know now either, not if it really is over. Louis can barely stand to even look at him and maybe that'll change now that he's back to normal, but the fact that Louis had such a problem in the first place doesn't sit well. What does it say that he was so quick to cast Harry aside at the first sign of trouble? Admittedly weird as that trouble had been, there are far worse things than turning into a girl, surely. 

Not for the first time, Harry feels young and foolish, stupid for mistaking what's clearly just been two lads fooling around for something more. The quicker they just forget the whole thing, the better for everyone.

But Niall should at least know, if only to quiet this ridiculous notion of witches.

"Look, Niall, it wasn't a girl, it–"

The entire last bit is cut off by the racket of their bedroom door being shoved open, lights flicking on as Louis barges through with keycard in hand, Liam right behind him.

"We heard screaming," Liam says hurriedly, worry clear in his tone as he pushes his way past Louis, who seems too busy staring directly at Harry to move out of the doorway. Harry stands up a little straighter, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks right back, suddenly bizarrely proud to have his penis back where it belongs. At least until Liam's quiet, "Oh dear god," effectively knocks him back into the actual problem at hand.

With the attention shifted entirely onto Niall, it's only Harry who notices Zayn shuffle in, bundled in a duvet with little more than his forehead visible. 

"Oh, Niall," Liam laments, he and Louis stepping fully inside as Zayn squints from his cocoon and asks with a quiet, sleepy drawl, "What's happening?"

:::

Everyone stands there quietly stunned for a long moment until Harry breaks the silence, bursting suddenly into laughter. It's a bit manic, though, considering, and no one joins him.

Liam feels like he's losing his mind all over again. He's had less than five hours of sleep the last two nights combined and he feels raw behind his eyes, his head hurting anew (or still, he can't tell), his nerves worn down to nubs. Niall's casting his eyes around the room, shivering, his arms crossed over his chest like the action of covering his new breasts will make them not exist.

It's way too much to take. What Liam wants to do is just scream and put his fist through the wall or something, but the rest of them are counting on him to hold it together. So he takes a breath, rolling his shoulders back and pushing his personal feelings down as far as he can.

"How did this happen?" he asks Harry, because Niall looks like he's about to burst into tears.

Harry inhales, his gaze shifting from Louis over to Liam, inhales again. "We had sex," he finally says, his eyes skirting back toward Louis when he says it, and Niall makes a muffled sobbing sound as he ducks his head toward the carpet.

"With each other?" Zayn asks from behind Liam, his voice still rough from sleep.

"No. We invited a bunch of girls up here and had an orgy," Harry snaps, his eyes alight with sudden fury. "Yes, with each other."

Liam turns his head in time to see a frown pull down the corners of Zayn's mouth. But he looks immediately over at Niall then, says, "Like what we talked about this morning?"

Niall lifts his head to look at Zayn and laughs once wetly. "Bad idea," he says, and a couple tears break free and slide down his face.

Liam thinks about going to Niall, holding him or something, but he's distracted when he hears Louis breathe in roughly at his other side. "You fucked Niall?" Louis accuses, and when Liam looks over he can see that Louis' gaze is focused, hard and angry, right on Harry.

"If you want to get technical," Harry replies, his own expression steely and cold, "he fucked me."

"You fucked _Niall_?" Louis repeats, his volume increasing until he's nearly shouting at the end.

"Could we please not use that word?" Niall says, his voice higher than usual and quavering with tears.

"Oh, well, excuse me," Louis snaps, his attention instantly on Niall. "I didn't mean to offend your suddenly delicate sensibilities."

"Enough," Liam breaks in, proud of how stern and authoritative he sounds. "Just, stop. Stop yelling and stop fighting and stop… Stop fucking each other," Liam finishes, shaking his head. Niall sobs again softly and Zayn finally goes to him, pulling the duvet from around his shoulders and wrapping Niall in it gently.

Rubbing at his temples, Liam shifts his gaze from one boy to the next, and he doesn't really know all of what's going on, but he feels like there are cracks forming and it scares the hell out of him. "Can we all just sit down and talk through this?" he asks, looking at Harry in particular as he does. "We've got you back, Harry," he explains. "Maybe we can figure out how to do the same for Niall."

There's still a lot of tension in the room, but everyone agrees, and Zayn tucks into the bed with Niall, Harry sat on the end of the mattress (pillow in his naked lap) and Liam in the chair while Louis paces, clearly still vividly angry.

"Okay, so," Liam starts, and it's difficult to be diplomatic when everyone in the room seems ready to scream or cry or both. Everyone except Zayn, of course, who, as always, is calm and quiet and attentive.

"Did you both change after then?" Liam continues, looking from Niall to Harry. "Like, after you'd finished, I mean."

Niall nods, and Harry says, "A little bit after, yeah. Just like last time."

"Okay," Liam answers, assimilating the data. He's got some ideas, but he's going to have to ask more questions, and Niall seems less than interested in offering details. Harry's been more forthcoming, but there is definitely something going on between Harry and Louis that's making him especially tetchy. 

Liam's not a total idiot; he's been around the two of them long enough to notice the flirting that goes a little further than it does between any of the rest of them, how physically affectionate Louis is with Harry, how close they've always been with each other. They have their jokes about how Harry is Louis' boyfriend, but Liam never really thought it went beyond that. If he didn't know better he'd say Louis' foul mood was being fueled by jealousy.

"So the change is triggered by sex," Liam says, thinking aloud. "Ehm, Harry, was it, like, proper sex?" he asks, and Louis makes a disgusted sound that Liam tries to ignore.

Harry rolls his eyes. "Yes, perfectly proper. Missionary and everything, like God intended."

Liam's quickly losing his patience with all the negativity and sarcasm, but he swallows down his irritation and pushes on. "So maybe Niall just needs the same thing to switch him back."

Niall's eyes go wide, and beside him Zayn says, "What, like, someone to have sex with him?"

"Yeah," Liam confirms.

"What if I do it?" Harry asks. "You know, since it's my fault he's like this now and all that?"

"I don't think so, Harry," Liam replies, and Louis exhales again, hard and loud, like he's trying to calm himself. "We can't be sure that _you_ won't change again if you do."

"Can't be sure anyone who does it won't change, can we?" Zayn offers.

"So I'm stuck like this? S'that what you're saying?" Niall asks, his voice high and breathless.

"Niall, no," Liam replies gently. "We'll figure something out."

"Maybe you should do it," Louis says to Liam, tone bitchy. "Seeing as you're basically a girl already."

Liam turns his head to glare at Louis, and he thinks maybe he should ask Louis to leave since he's not doing anything but being a dick, but Zayn draws his attention back when he says, "What if it's not sex that does it?"

"What d'you mean?" Niall ask with a sniff, looking a little hopeful for the first time.

"Like, what if it's just, like, gettin' off?" Zayn goes on. "Like, Harry, you didn't yesterday, yeah? On your own?"

"No," Harry admits.

"Right. So, like, maybe you can just have a wank then?" Zayn offers, looking over to Niall at his side.

Niall blinks under the weight of everyone's sudden attention. "Well I'm definitely not doing it with all of you in here!" he says, pulling the duvet more tightly around himself.

"Didn't mean, like, immediately," Zayn says with a fond smile. "Just, like, maybe give it a try?"

Niall looks toward Harry, then back at Zayn, taking a breath and sighing as he lets it go. "Yeah, alright," he agrees. "Always been my specialty anyway, yeah?" he adds with a soft laugh.

Liam and Zayn laugh with him, and Harry smiles, but a glance toward Louis finds him standing with his arms crossed, gaze turned down to the floor. "So, ehm," Liam says, turning his attention back to Niall. "We'll go back to the other room. Give you some privacy."

"Right now?" Niall squeaks in reply, his big, blue eyes wide again. "I'm not really in the mood, strangely enough."

"You're a seventeen year old boy with access to the internet," Louis chimes in. "I'm sure you can sort it out."

"Except I'm _not_ a boy now, am I?" Niall replies, glowering at Louis. "I have no idea how this body even works."

"Just do what you did with Harry," Louis snaps in response. "Worked that out well enough apparently," he adds, and Harry's gaze jerks to Louis over Liam's shoulder, anger sparking in his eyes. Liam knows that look, and what will come next, if he doesn't put a stop to it.

"Alright, enough," he says, shooting warning looks to both Harry and Louis in turn. "Let's just give Niall some space," he continues, pushing up out of his chair. Louis heads out into the hall without another word, not even waiting while Harry puts on some trousers to make the trip next door. Zayn lingers a moment with Niall on the bed, reaching over to give him a hug and murmur something into Niall's ear.

Once the four of them are in the other room, Harry announces he's going to take a shower and disappears into the bathroom. Louis retreats to the cot where he'd been sleeping in Niall's stead, picking up his phone immediately, and Liam sits down on the bed, Zayn following suit. There's a moment of ringing silence, the only sound the distant fall of water against tile in the bathroom from Harry's shower. He's trying his hardest to be patient, but Liam can't stop thinking about Louis' reaction in the other room, how upset he still seems, the aura of it radiating off him. He looks over to where Louis's sitting, the way his body is hunched, practically curled into itself, eyes on his phone like he's wishing for everyone else in the world to disappear and leave him alone in his misery.

"Louis?" Liam tries, and he's rewarded with Louis' patented bitch stare.

"Don't, Liam," Louis replies simply, jaw set hard and nostrils flaring. He holds Liam's gaze for a few more seconds before he drops his attention back to his phone, cutting all lines of conversation.

Liam sighs softly, dropping back against the headboard heavily. The edge of it is digging into his shoulder, but he doesn't move to adjust, letting his head fall back with a clunk. Beside him Zayn reaches and grabs that strange, pointy trinket of his off the side table, turning it over in his hands.

Liam doesn't know why Zayn's so obsessed with that thing. He'd nearly made them miss their flight back to England the day he'd bought it, caught up talking with the street vendor who was selling it. In the van to the airport Harry had asked what it was, but Zayn somehow hadn't bothered to find out. Liam had never seen anything like it before, about three inches in size and shaped almost like a four pointed star, made out of lengths of bent copper wire. Niall had recognized it, or at least in general, said it looked like a Brigid's cross, though he'd never seen one made out of metal quite like that, or with the extra markings on it. They're usually made from straw, he'd told them, and hung in people's kitchens to protect the house from fire and ward off evil spirits. But this one Niall had described as 'creepy', that the three radiating marks on it were really weird, definitely not anything he'd seen on a Brigid's cross before.

Despite Niall's not so positive impression, Zayn seems to love it, and has been carrying it around with him for weeks. Liam watches Zayn play with it now, turning it round and round, pressing his thumbs to two of the four points and spinning it. It's oddly calming to watch Zayn's hands work, and Liam begins to blink more and more slowly, his eyes feeling progressively heavy.

He wasn't planning on sleeping, but clearly he does for a bit, because he wakes with a start when the door to the room opens. It takes him a moment to get his bearings, to remember what's going on, where he is. Zayn's next to him on the bed, and Liam realizes he's still largely laying against him, shoulder tucked against Zayn's chest and Zayn's arm wrapped around his back. He licks his lips and sits up straight, finding Harry curled into the empty space at the foot of the mattress asleep. That's when he sees that Niall's the one who's come in, dressed in baggy jogging bottoms and a t-shirt, looking flushed and exhausted.

And still very much a female.

"You okay?" Zayn asks gently as Niall pads toward the bed. He drops himself onto the mattress heavily enough to make it bounce, Harry waking with a dazed, "Wha?"

"I can't do it," Niall admits with a whimper, letting himself faceplant into the bed next to Harry's shoulder. Harry sits up then, his hand moving immediately to Niall's arm, stroking softly. "Girls are so… so complicated!" he goes on, voice muffled by the bedding, and Harry laughs gently.

"They really are, mate," he says, fingers still petting over Niall's upper arm.

"Maybe he just needs a vibrator," Zayn suggests, and it's so random and unexpected that Liam accidentally inhales some of his own saliva and starts coughing.

"And we'd get one of those how exactly?" Louis asks from across the room as Zayn pats Liam's back. "Not like we can ask someone to just pick one up for us."

"Could borrow one," Harry offers. "Like from Rebecca or something."

"Uuugh," Niall moans, face still buried in the duvet, and Zayn makes a face.

"S'not very hygenic, that," he says, still grimacing. "Also how'm I gonna ask for it?"

"Maybe you're kinky," Louis replies. "She is your girlfriend. Maybe she'll find it hot."

"No way," Zayn declines, shaking his head. "M'not doin' that."

"Let me help," Harry says, and he's talking more to Niall than the rest of them. "I know what I'm doing. Like, from both directions," he adds with a soft laugh.

"Oh bloody hell," Louis complains, but Harry ignores him, keeping his eyes fixed on Liam.

"Harry," Liam responds, tone warning. "What happens if you change into a girl again?"

"I won't get off," he says, turning his attention to Liam. "I'll just help Niall do it. Then he'll change back and I'll stay a boy."

"Assuming that's how it really works," Liam replies. "We're just guessing here, you know that."

"We've got to try," Harry pleads his case. "We can't just leave Niall like this."

At that Niall pushes up to his elbows, looking at Liam imploringly. His face is so cute, even more so than normal what with his smaller nose and bigger eyes, and there's no way Liam can say no.

"Okay," he says, and both Niall and Harry smile. "But be careful, Haz. Please? We're running out of time."

"Will do, don't worry," he says, nearly bounding off the bed. He reaches back and grabs Niall's hand, pulling him along. "We'll be right back!" he announces, tugging Niall out of the room, the door snapping shut behind them.

It's a lot quieter all the sudden with them gone, so Liam hears Louis' heavy sigh. He fights the urge to look over, however, not keen to be snapped at by him again this morning. Beside him on the bed Zayn, leans back against the headboard, asking, "Think it will work?"

"God, I hope so," Liam replies, body sagging back as well.

:::

If Harry's completely honest, he has no idea if he'll have better luck with Niall than Niall had himself. He hadn't managed to get off when he'd tried it in the loo on his own and he's only fingered a couple girls, neither of them particularly well, he's pretty sure. They hadn't complained or anything, but he knows he's young and inexperienced, and a cheeky smile and smooth pun can only go so far.

But he has managed to achieve orgasm at least once in this body. With Niall's help, even. So with the both of them together, there's definitely a chance.

Harry closes the door behind them with a quiet click as Niall drops onto the bed, hands in his lap and shoulders hunched inward. He looks smaller in this body, Harry notices, little and sweet and sort of quiet in a way Niall's never been before, though that's probably just because he's so scared right now.

"Hey, c'mon, Nialler. It'll be alright."

He drops a hand onto Niall's shoulder and squeezes, then slides it down to rub at Niall's back as he takes a seat beside him. Leaning in closer Harry rests against Niall's side, sliding his hand lower to wrap an arm around Niall's middle.

Niall sighs. "What if it doesn't work?"

"Did last time, didn't it?"

"I mean, like. What if I can't, y'know… _do_ it."

Frowning a little, Harry tips his head so he can look at Niall's face. As close as he is now, he can make out the clear differences, the softer curve of Niall's jaw and delicate slope of his cheekbones. Niall's always been cute, but he's _pretty_ like this. There's really no better word for it. Harry reaches over with his other hand, rests it on Niall's thigh, watches as Niall glances down to look at it, cheeks still flushed that familiar pink.

"What if you can't come?" Harry asks, keeping his voice quiet and low and even. He's not trying for smooth or seductive or anything like that, just wants Niall to breathe a bit. Relax.

Niall nods, swallowing as he settles his own hand over Harry's. "I read once, like. Some girls just can't."

"Some girls can't come?" Harry replies, blinking in surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"Where'd you read that?"

"Dunno, some article."

Harry's frown deepens as he considers and he finally shakes his head, more determined now than ever. It's possible Niall's right and, hell, he knows firsthand now that it's certainly more difficult as a girl, but he refuses to believe there isn't a fix to this. Especially now.

The fabric of Niall's jogging bottoms is warm under Harry's hand as he drags his fingers higher and scoots closer yet, lips brushing the soft skin just below Niall's ear. "Well, you're not a girl," he points out, deliberately lowering his voice. "Not really. So it's not the same, is it? Can't be." His logic is probably a little faulty, but he hardly cares at the moment. He's on a mission.

With a twist of his wrist, he has his hand nestled between Niall's thighs, grins as Niall immediately lets out a high, shuddered gasp, his legs falling further apart. "What've you tried already?" he asks, rubbing gently as he noses at Niall's ear. "How've you touched yourself, baby?"

Niall replies with a quick snort, shoving at Harry's chest with his shoulder. Harry's hand is still pressed against him, rubbing as well as he can through the cotton. 

"This how you always talk with girls?" Niall asks, sounding more exasperated than turned on. It's a start, though.

Harry shrugs, glancing down at the soft skin of Niall's neck and resolutely does not think about Louis. "Guess so," he says, easily enough. Pasting on another smile, he leans in again to press a kiss to Niall's throat, breathes warm against the skin as he parts his lips. "C'mon, Niall. Tell me what you've done. Let me help you."

Niall makes a soft, frustrated sound, but he tips his head to give Harry more room to kiss him. Harry can feel the vibration against his lips when Niall clears his throat, and he keeps pressing gentle kisses, hoping it encourages Niall to speak.

"I, ehm," Niall starts, his breath catching a little. "I put my fingers in," he finishes, and Harry can't help the way he moans, just from the idea of someone's fingers in a pussy. His own fingertips rub down a little harder and Niall gasps lightly.

"How many?" Harry asks, his mouth trailing lower, kissing the edge of a collarbone left exposed by the wide neck of Niall's too-big t-shirt.

"Two," Niall says, and one of Niall's hands buries itself in Harry's hair. Harry takes that as a good sign and presses on.

"How did it feel?" he prompts, his hand sliding down onto one of Niall's inner thighs and then back up, squeezing at him.

"Fuck," Niall breathes, his fingers tensing around Harry's curls, then says, "Not enough. It wasn't enough."

"Did you touch your clit?" he asks, his hand shifting so he can try to find it himself. It's pretty much impossible through Niall's bottoms, so he lifts his hand, pushing down past the waistband, and he groans when he comes immediately into contact with Niall's warm skin. Niall's panting, not answering him, but Harry doesn't push the issue immediately, just lets his fingertips skim over Niall's crotch, through the coarse curls and down to the wet slit of Niall's cunt.

"Fuck, Harry," Niall gasps, the lower half of his body jolting forward.

"Did you touch here?" Harry asks again, his fingers circling the nub of Niall's clit, easy enough to find now that there's no fabric in the way. Harry's fingers are already slick, and while he hasn't done this that many times, it's not completely unfamiliar. "Tell me, Niall," he goads, his mouth shifting to Niall's jaw, biting the edge of it.

" _Yes_ ," Niall breathes, and it could be an answer or a plea, but it's as good as both as far as Harry's concerned.

"Did it feel good?" Harry continues. "Did you like how it felt?"

"Yes," Niall says again, and he's sort of moving against Harry's hand now, grinding down. "Not, but not," he continues, breathless. "Not as good as now," he finishes, and Harry pulls back a fraction, sees Niall's chest and neck flushed, his head tilted back, eyes closed. He can't help feeling a little smug, delighted that he's able to pull this sort of reaction with just his fingers. There's definitely a marked difference between the last time he tried this with a girl and now, evidence that he's learned a thing or two in the past twenty-four hours.

"How long did you do this?" he asks, still circling with his fingers before changing the rhythm, sliding down along the wetness as much as he's able and then back up.

Niall groans again, clutching at Harry's arm, his back arched. "I don't– Awhile," he manages, letting go of Harry to lean his weight one arm, hips hitched forward to press against Harry's hand, rolling gently.

There's really only so much Harry can do from this angle and he leans up to press a soft, lingering kiss beneath Niall's jaw before delicately pulling his hand free of Niall's bottoms.

"Lay back," he says, shifting onto his side as Niall stares up at him with wide, blue eyes. He doesn't argue though, easily laying down with his arms bent at the elbows, hands awkwardly hovering over his own belly. "Scoot," Harry continues, urging Niall further up the mattress before slinging a leg over Niall's waist and crowding down close. 

"Wha–," Niall murmurs a second before Harry hushes him with a kiss, his tongue sliding easily past Niall's lips. It's different from the last time, from only hours ago when Niall had still been male. He wonders if this is what it'd felt like for Niall to kiss him before, wonders if it's weirder now for Niall to be kissing a boy, if he's noting any differences.

Whatever the case, it seems to be okay. At least if the way Niall groans beneath him and immediately grabs at Harry's sides is anything to go by.

Lowering further, Harry rests his weight on one arm and lets his other hand wander, his palm smoothing down the front of Niall's shirt, over the small rise of his left breast and then lower still, fingers playing with the bottom hem of his shirt before sneaking just beneath.

"Oh," Niall gasps, breaking the kiss as he shivers and, grinning, Harry ducks into his neck, mouthing at the soft skin there.

"Okay?" he asks and when Niall nods on a whimper, Harry dances his fingertips across Niall's bare belly, hovering right over his waistband. "Niall, can I… I want to get you naked. Would that be okay?"

"Yeah," Niall answers immediately, his body sort of squirming, like he wants Harry to get on with it and touch him for real. So Harry doesn't hesitate, shifting back so he can pull Niall's jogging bottoms over his hips, towing them down Niall's legs. He's taken trousers off a girl before, but he's forgotten that girls don't come with smooth legs, and Niall's are obviously _not_. He didn't notice it before, but he definitely does now, and it sort of brings home how serious this is. This isn't just a fun bit of shagging between friends. Niall's in the wrong body here, like he was before, and as much as Harry's enjoying the moment, he has a job to do here.

Moving back up the bed, Harry crowds into Niall's space again, pushing Niall's shirt up under his armpits. Niall shifts to pull it off, sitting halfway up and tugging it over his head in the least feminine fashion possible. Harry laughs at first, but then Niall comes down to the mattress with a thump and his breasts bounce against his chest, and Harry groans involuntarily.

A second later he's leant forward over Niall's chest, is kissing a path around the orbit of Niall's right boob. He strays up to the middle of it, passing the width of his tongue over the nipple, and Niall yelps beneath him.

"Shit, sorry, sorry," Harry says, backing off. "Should have asked first."

"No no," Niall talks over him, his hand finding Harry's hair again. "It was good, felt good," he goes on, and that's when Harry notices how Niall's chest is heaving, how tightly his nipple has drawn up.

"You want more?" Harry asks, and Niall immediately nods, saying, "Yes, please please." So Harry leans back down, slides his lips around the nub and sucks softly. Niall moans sharply, his body lifting toward Harry's mouth, and Harry takes that as encouragement, keeps sucking and licking until Niall's bucking so hard under him he thinks he might get thrown off the bed.

"Harry, Harry, please," Niall's chanting, and Harry tips his weight more onto his elbow, moving his other hand back down between Niall's thighs. He cups his palm over Niall's mound and it's warm and plump in his hand, and it's just then that Harry realizes how hard he is, his cock throbbing between his legs.

"Jesus fuck," he groans, and his eyes roll back a little when he slips his fingers down the line of Niall's pussy, wet and hot and messy. Every ounce of Harry's instinct is begging him to get inside immediately.

Niall echoes the sound, his back arched as he bends one leg at the knee, one hand grappling at Harry's shoulder. "Please," he whispers again, and Harry really doesn't have to ask what he's begging for. His finger slips in easily, enveloped in slick warmth up to the top knuckle, and Niall whines again, rocks downward as he tangles his fingers in Harry's curls. "No, more. C'mon, Harry, please. Please _more_."

Shifting a bit, Harry turns his head to look at Niall's face, cataloging the high flush that covers him from chest to cheekbones as Harry eases his finger out to slide in a second alongside it. The push is noticeably tighter this time and Niall cries out, his head falling back as he starts chanting a quiet, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, _yeah_ Oh fuck, yeah."

"There we go," Harry whispers, momentarily distracted from his own erection as he begins pumping his fingers, matching the slow rhythm Niall's set with the gentle rock of his hips. "Shit, you are really tight." 

Niall seems to choke a bit on a laugh, one hand clutching at Harry's hair, tugging faintly. "You were, too," he says and Harry grins, oddly proud, before he ducks to nip lightly at the peak of Niall's left nipple. 

"Oh god, that's… that's really good," Niall moans, still rolling his hips upward with every thrust of Harry's fingers. Harry hums softly, flicks his tongue over rough, pink skin, pushes his fingers in deeper. "God, Harry. Harry, please." 

"I got you," Harry assures him, his breath ragged as he shifts his weight again, arm aching a little with the effort. "Gonna get you there, okay? Promise." 

With a whine, Niall nods, his head tipping back as he digs blunt nails into Harry's shoulder. "Please," he says again, little more than a punched whisper. "Please, Harry, fuck me. Oh fuck, Harry, _please_." 

"I am," Harry says with a breathless laugh, fucking his fingers in a little harder anyway. 

Niall makes a strangled sound of frustration, sort of shifting his body, trying to change the angle of his hips. "I know, just. Just, I need _more_. Just a little more, please, Harry. God, please please please." 

And Harry knows what Niall wants, even though he's not directly asking for it. Harry wants it too, he wants it so bad that his entire body is screaming for it. There are a million reasons he shouldn't, the big one being his promise to Liam that he wouldn't get off himself. But Niall is practically sobbing beneath him, and Harry's only human. 

"I could do it for real," Harry says, sucking a kiss to the side of Niall's breast before lifting his eyes, meeting Niall's gaze. 

"You, you mean," Niall wonders, wide-eyed, and Harry nods, making Niall moan deeply. "Yes, do it, do it," Niall begs, tugging Harry down toward him. 

"Jesus," Harry groans again, his cock throbbing even as he shakes his head, letting out a helpless, choked laugh. "I'll come, like. The second I'm in you." 

"Fuck, don't care," Niall replies, dragging his hands down Harry's upper arms as he spread his legs even wider. "I don't care, I need, I need it, Harry, I need it." 

The next few seconds are a blur, Harry pulling his fingers free and shoving blindly at his trousers, getting them out of the way just enough to get his dick free. He's never felt so blindly turned on before, not in the moment like this, and he doesn't think about anything, just gets between Niall's legs. Considering he's never had sex with a girl before, he's surprised at how easy it is, how he finds the right place, and it doesn't take much for him to push inside, Niall's body giving in to him. 

Niall's tight – so, so tight – and hot and wet in a way Harry's never experienced before. Harry feels pleasure rocket up his spine like a bolt of lightning, and he cries out at the feeling of it, his body bowing. Below him Niall is whimpering, and when Harry takes a moment to focus, he can see there are tears in his eyes. It's like a splash of cold water and Harry tries to back up, but Niall's legs wrap around his hips, holding him in place. 

"Don't," Niall says, swallowing. "Don't stop." 

"Are you hurt? Did I hurt you?" Harry asks, a bit frantic, and Niall shakes his head. 

"No, no, it's just, it's…" he tries, shaking his head again. 

"Intense," Harry supplies, and Niall nods. 

"It's like, like you're everywhere, you're… Harry," Niall whines softly. "God, Harry, _move_." 

"Fuck, okay," Harry groans, rocking his hips forward to bury himself deep. Niall practically keens beneath him, head thrown back and hands grabbing at Harry's chest and shoulders and sides, basically anywhere he can get any sort of hold at all. And Harry's rhythm is totally off, rough and staggered as he bites down on his bottom lip, trying desperately to hold back. He's so hard it _hurts_ and Niall is so unbelievably tight and wet and _warm_ and– 

He stops abruptly, gasping as Niall groans beneath him. 

"Harry!" 

"Can't," Harry breathes, every nerve buzzing violently under his skin. "Just, just give me a sec. Fuck." 

Niall actually laughs then, though it sounds a bit desperate too, as he curls his legs tight around Harry's middle and rolls his hips again. "God, it's like, it's like you're right there," he whines softly, one hand smoothing down between them as Harry struggles to stay still, ducking his head to watch Niall's hand. "It's right there and I just can't _reach_ it." 

"I think, like. If you touch yourself, it's easier," Harry says, actively shaking now. 

"But I am." 

"No, your… like, your clit," Harry says, trying to ignore how weird it still is to refer to that sort of thing on _Niall_. 

But Niall hardly seems bothered, just lets out a strained, "Ohh," as he shoves his hand down lower, the back of it grazing Harry's stomach. Then, "Oh, holy fuck, you're _in_ me." 

Harry fists the sheets hard enough to make his knuckles ache and squeezes his eyes shut. "Niall, please," he whispers through clenched teeth, his hips rocking forward before he can stop it. "Please, just. _Please_." 

With his eyes still closed, all Harry can do is _feel_. He's acutely aware of everywhere they're touching, the sweat on his own skin as well as Niall's, and the push of Niall's small fingers rubbing between them, occasionally dipping down low enough to brush the root of Harry's dick where he's still buried deep. 

He knows instantly when Niall finds the right spot, can tell by the shuddered gasp and the clench all along Harry's length. Biting back a whimper, Harry forces his eyes open. "Good?" he asks and Niall only nods, his eyes wide and locked on Harry's. He looks stunned. Enraptured. 

"It's like," Niall whispers, pushing himself harder against Harry with a strangled moan. "Oh fuck, it's like, I can't even, oh shit. Shit, Harry. Oh god, _oh my god_." 

It's not going to take much more now, Harry can tell by the way Niall's shaking under him, and so he takes a risk in moving, shifting back a little. Niall cries out desperately just at that, gasping Harry's name. Harry can do this, he knows he can, and he remembers the way Louis teased him for going off so fast when they were together; it only makes him more determined. 

Taking a breath he starts to fuck Niall again, his thrusts quick and sharp, short but deep. He can feel Niall's hand working on himself, rubbing a little frantically, and Harry tries not to think about it too much, concentrates on keeping himself calm. Harder to ignore, though, is the way Niall's body starts to squeeze down around him, the way Niall's breathing rushes out of him, peppered with feverish moans. It's taking everything Harry has to keep himself in check, his fingers gripping the sheets hard enough that his hands are going numb, every muscle in his body screaming. 

And then, suddenly, Niall goes silent. When Harry meets his eyes he sees they've gone wide, his mouth dropped open as well, and it's like the calm before the storm. A second later it breaks free, Niall's head pushing back against the pillows as cries out, and it's not like any sound Harry's ever heard before, high and wild, shaking Harry to his bones. At the same instant he feels Niall's pussy clamping down around him, pulsing, and he doesn't want to move, but he's going to come, it'll happen right now if he doesn't do something. 

Niall sobs when Harry pulls out abruptly, his eyes flying open, and Harry swears, trembling all over as he fights against his own pleasure. "Fuck, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he pants, forcing himself to meet Niall's gaze. "Are you okay? You came right? Tell me you came, please." 

Niall whimpers when he tries to answer, nodding against the pillow. "Yes, yes, oh my god," he finally says, his one hand still cupping himself, but no longer moving. "Oh my god, Harry. It didn't work, it didn't work," he's saying, his voice thin as wetness builds in his eyes. Harry feels his heart sink and he has no idea how to comfort Niall now, his own emotions so conflicted. 

But then Niall gasps, and his hand tenses, covering his belly as he convulses. He groans, his face contorting, and Harry watches in wide-eyed horror as Niall's body sort of trembles and expands, chest widening, face going more square, his crotch, holy _shit_. It's terrifying and a little gross, but mostly Harry's struck by a wave of relief as he meets Niall's familiar blue eyes set in his familiar flushed face. 

"Holy fuck," Niall breathes, moments later, his flat chest heaving as his lips quirk into a grin. "Holy fuck, it _worked_!" 

Niall's clear, uninhibited joy is enough to make Harry laugh, though it's cut short when Niall, clearly excited to have his normal body restored, shifts just enough to knock Harry off balance, sending him crashing forward. His cock, still slick from Niall's cunt, slides against Niall's flat lower belly, and it shouldn't be enough, it really really shouldn't, but Harry's been on edge for what feels like ages. He's frankly astonished he's managed to hold on this long. "Oh god," he just manages before his hips stutter forward and he comes with a shocked, mortified groan, spilling hot onto Niall's stomach. 

Somehow it doesn't feel as satisfying as Harry thinks it should, though he's sure that mostly has to do with the fact that he can already picture the look of utter disappointment on Liam's face. 

"Fuck," he moans, feeling defeated as he hides his face in the side of Niall's neck, his cock giving one last weak spurt. 

"That was pretty hot," Niall says, his hand patting warmly against Harry's side. 

Harry shakes his head, then realizes Niall's probably talking about before, when _he'd_ come, and all the stuff leading up to it. Murmurs, "Oh. Yeah, that was… really hot, actually." 

"Yeah," Niall agrees fondly as he continues gently petting Harry's side. "Thanks for… you know. For doin' it." 

"Wasn't like a hardship or anything," Harry points out. 

"Yeah, but like. Didn't have to. And now I'm a boy again and… Harry?" 

Harry barely registers the shift in Niall's tone from content to concerned, that familiar flare of bone-deep pain gripping him tight once again. Rolling off of Niall, he curls in on himself and grits his teeth, riding it out, wave after wave, before snapping his eyes open in relief as the pain suddenly subsides. 

"Oh," Niall says and Harry doesn't even have to look down to know he's changed again. "Shit." 

::: 

"What the hell is taking so long?" 

Liam sighs. This is the fourth comment Louis's made since Harry and Niall left, each of them grumbled and short-tempered, all of them ignored by Liam and Zayn. This time, though, Liam can't leave it alone. 

"They've been gone less than _ten minutes_ ," he replies testily, and he doesn't look away when Louis raises his eyes and glares at him. "Give us a break, will you?" 

Louis doesn't reply for a long moment, still leveling his steely gaze on Liam. "Fine," he finally says shortly, crossing his arms over his chest and slumping back against the wall. Then, under his breath, he mutters, " _I_ would be done with it by now." 

Liam rolls his eyes, turning away from Louis and shifting down to lay flat on his bed, rubbing both of his palms over his face. These have been the longest two days of his life; between the actual issue of Harry (and then Niall) being a girl, Louis' unusually persistent bitchiness, and management breathing down his neck, Liam feels like he's about ready to crack. That's probably why he jerks so hard when he feels someone touch his abdomen, his hands falling away to find Zayn laying at his side. 

"Sorry," Zayn says gently, but he doesn't move his hand, just strokes Liam's belly like he's a cat instead of a high strung teenager. "You alright?" 

Liam sighs again, partially in response to Zayn's question, but mostly because Zayn's touch, as usual, is causing conflicting reactions all over his body. "No, actually," he finally answers with a soft laugh. "We've got an interview in–," he turns briefly, checking the clock, "–three and a half hours, we have no idea if what's going on over there is going to work, and I expect Nigel will be here with a doctor any second. So I'm just a bit stressed out," he finishes. It's all true, but he is feeling a little better, just from the way Zayn's looking at him, expression concerned and fond 

And then there's the way Zayn's stroking him. It's both calming and agitating at once; Liam's so tired of trying to pretend he doesn't like this, that it doesn't turn him on. The last two days have been so stressful and Liam's completely exhausted, so he doesn't bother faking anything, just lays there with his head tipped to the side, his stomach rising and falling under Zayn's palm as he breathes. If Zayn notices that Liam's breaths are coming faster, he doesn't make any indication of it. 

"Harry'll take care of Niall," Zayn says, reassuring, and Liam just hums in response, blinking slowly as he looks at Zayn's handsome face. "And after the show tomorrow I'm buying you a drink," Zayn adds, and Liam laughs, very aware of the way his abdomen clenches under Zayn's hand. 

"Holding you to that," Liam says, his tone sort of dreamy, and he hopes Zayn thinks it's just him being sleepy and relaxed. 

"You'd better," Zayn replies with a slow smile, and it feels an awful lot like Zayn's flirting with him. Of course there's probably a huge dose of wishful thinking involved there, but then Zayn's hand sort of shifts up, pushing Liam's t-shirt with it and baring just a bit of Liam's belly. Liam can't help shivering at the cool air against his skin, and he's glad he can blame his goosebumps on that rather than the way Zayn's looking at him. Zayn holds his gaze without blinking, looking into him in a way that Liam's never really experienced with anyone he wasn't dating. 

Or Zayn. Because Zayn has always had that sort of quiet intensity, is always so focused on whomever he's engaged with. It's a little infuriating, because with anyone else Liam would assume they wanted him to kiss them, but he can't be sure with Zayn. Or, really, he can be; Zayn's not like that, and Zayn's got a girlfriend besides. Liam has one too, though he's not been doing a particularly good job remembering that recently. He's not sure what that means, but he's really not ready to explore it at this juncture. Or possibly any. 

Finally Zayn blinks and offers Liam a little smile, his hand rubbing Liam's belly again, a slow circle. Liam's very proud of himself when he manages to not gasp when Zayn's pinky grazes over the bare patch of skin between his shirt and his trousers, but his entire body sings at the contact, warmth pooling low in his hips. God, he can't keep doing this, letting himself want this, but he doesn't know how to make himself stop. And god knows he's tried, even if it hasn't been that hard. 

And then Liam has a half crazed thought: if Louis wasn't here right now he might go ahead and kiss Zayn, just to see what would happen. He's pretty certain Zayn wouldn't do anything drastic like push him off or hit him, and Zayn's eyes are so nice, his lips parted softly, and he has just a bit of stubble on his chin that makes Liam wonder how it would feel against his own. 

He licks his lips and swallows, his eyes moving over Zayn's face as Zayn's hand continues to rub over his stomach, fingertips finding the dips of his abs, tracing them. This is _something_ , it has to be, and there's no way Zayn can't feel the way Liam's trembling now, the heaviness of his breathing. So Liam decides he doesn't care if Louis's in the room; he can't just ignore this. He takes a deep breath, holding it, and just as he tenses his shoulders to shift closer to Zayn the moment is shattered by Louis' voice asking, "Should we go check on them?" 

Liam closes his eyes and sighs, letting his head roll center as Zayn laughs softly beside him. "Shut up, Louis," he says, scratching at Liam's belly fondly before his hand moves away and he sits up. "It's been fifteen minutes, man. Give 'em some time." 

"Who needs fifteen minutes to get off?" Louis grouses, and Liam pretends he's part of the bedding, not moving or opening his eyes. 

"Niall, obviously," Zayn replies, and he shifts on the bed, making the mattress bounce beneath Liam's back. A moment later Liam feels Zayn's leg against his arm, Zayn's knee pressed against Liam's shoulder, intentional contact. It makes Liam relax despite Louis' continued bitching, and he feels himself sinking heavily into the blankets, somehow ridiculously content. 

::: 

"Yeah, there, right there," Harry pants, his fingers caught in Niall's hair as he tugs him where he wants him. Niall makes a muffled sound, his tongue brushing over Harry's clit in a way that makes Harry's entire body jolt. "Yes, fuck, fuck," he chants, his toes curling. 

They've only been at this a couple minutes, and it's clear Niall's never gone down on a girl before, but Harry's never gotten oral sex as a girl, so they're learning together. And Niall's nothing if not determined, taking all of Harry's direction, trying anything Harry suggests. His mouth is warm and wet at Harry's center, his tongue strong and eager as it works over him, and it feels good in a way that is nothing at all like having his dick sucked, his body almost overly sensitive in this state. 

Niall hums again, shifts lower to lick at the folds of Harry's pussy, slipping his tongue along them, down and then up again. Harry gasps, lifting his legs up and opening himself wider, tipping his head to watch as Niall presses his face between Harry's legs so he can get deeper inside. It's like a tease, too shallow and too narrow, and Harry cups the back of Niall's head, grinding himself against Niall's jaw. Niall makes a soft sound of discomfort, pulling back with a breath. 

"Can't breathe," he says with a quiet laugh. His lips and chin are shiny with Harry's juices, the skin red from being pressed up so close to Harry's body. 

"Fuck, sorry," Harry replies, his fingers softening on the back on Niall's head. "I just, like. I wanted more of you there." 

Niall licks his lips, and his eyes darken. "Can finger you if you want," he says, wiping the underside of his chin with the back of his hand. 

"Yeah, I want," Harry answers, and Niall shifts to the right, getting his arm under himself so he can balance his weight and leave his left hand free. He's careful when he works the tips of two fingers in past Harry's folds, but once he's clear, he slides them in deep, not stopping until he bottoms out. 

"Oh, oh god yes," Harry calls out, and Niall immediately starts to fuck him steadily. His face is still close to Harry's crotch, his breath hot against the wet flesh, and Harry threads his fingers into Niall's hair. "Fuck, lick me too," he says, and Niall does, dipping his head to lap at Harry, fumbling as he tries to coordinate his arm and his tongue at once. 

Harry gasps harshly as the pleasure rocks through him, rolling his hips upward again, aching to get more, to get Niall's fingers deeper. And Niall's clearly doing the best he can, fucking in hard as he licks and sucks, his breath ragged. It's still not quite enough and Harry pushes up onto his elbows again to watch, staring at the top of Niall's bent head, frosted blond tips a mess and his cheeks flushed a hectic red. 

"Christ, that feels good," Harry groans, still working his hips in an effort to match Niall's hopelessly unsteady rhythm. "Just… god, yeah. Like that. Just like that." 

Niall answers with a low, guttural sound which sends a pleasing sort of vibration against Harry's cunt. He feels warm all over, his breasts bouncing gently with every rock of his body, nipples peaked. And it's like he's just coasting on pleasure, sweet and unending, but never quite reaching the intensity he remembers from before. 

It isn't long before Niall's lifting his head to look up at Harry, his eyes blown dark to show barely a faint ring of blue. He's still breathing hard, three fingers buried deep now and his hips are moving too, grinding down hard into the mattress. 

"Niall," Harry murmurs, suddenly caught between a new, intense wave of hunger mixed with a splash of apprehension. "Niall, you can't. Don't– Don't come." 

He gets only a whine in response before Niall's ducking down to lick at him again, his breath hot against Harry's folds as he whispers, "Fuck, you taste good, Haz. You taste really, _really_ fuckin' good." 

With a whimper, Harry grips at Niall's hair, hoping the pain of it might be enough to give Niall pause. But he only growls in response and shoves his fingers in deep, deep enough to make Harry cry out, back arched as he falls into the pillow. " _Fuck_. Fuck, Niall, c'mon. Just– fuck, don't stop. Don't stop, please don't–" 

He cuts off when he feels Niall suddenly go still, his face pressed between Harry's legs, fingers half inside him. He lets out a high, disappointed whine. " _Niall_." 

Niall doesn't lift his head, rather he turns it, pressing his face into Harry's inner thigh and pulling his fingers back. He sobs once softly as his body starts to tremble, damp fingers catching the sheets between Harry's legs as he groans and changes again, shoulders and arms and hips thinning where Harry can see them. By the time it's over, Niall's crying in earnest against Harry's leg, his tears a new wetness against Harry's skin. 

"It's fucking impossible," Niall whimpers pitifully, his shoulders shaking. "I don't even know what I'm doing, and I keep fucking it up." 

"Niall, no," Harry says gently, his own frustration forgotten in the face of Niall's breakdown. He reaches to stroke the back of Niall's neck softly, trying to calm him. "This isn't your fault. And I'm not doing any better, am I?" he goes on, playing with Niall's hair. "Would have been just fine now if I hadn't come before." 

At that Niall raises his gaze to Harry's, and he looks miserable, eyes red and face flushed. "It's so, like. It's too hot, Harry," he admits with a watery laugh. "Like… like, even when you were a boy." 

It's really an admission, Harry thinks, even as carefully as Niall says it. Niall's confessing to finding Harry attractive, to wanting Harry, not just in his female form but in general. It does something to him, makes something warm flare in his chest, and he tugs at the back of Niall's head gently, says, "Come up here." 

Niall complies, untangling himself from Harry's legs and crawling up Harry's body. Harry pulls Niall down against him, making sure they overlap, their legs intermingled, and Niall doesn't resist when Harry eases them into a slow kiss. 

It's a little hesitant at first, but it doesn't take long until they're both lost in it, their mouths coming together, hands touching. It is by far the most intimate they've been with each other, even considering everything else, because with their eyes closed and no agenda they're just _them_. Harry really has to focus to notice the way their breasts brush, the wetness of Niall's pussy against his thigh. Once he does, though, he flexes intentionally, lifts his leg a little, pressing into the heat. 

Niall moans into his mouth, bending his own knee to push into Harry's crotch the same way. Harry slides a hand to the small of Niall's back and Niall begins to sort of hump down against him, grinding his cunt against Harry's leg while Harry arches in turn. A moment later Niall pulls out of the kiss with a groan, looking down into Harry's eyes. 

"God," he sighs, still rocking down against him. "This is so mental," he goes on with a breathless laugh. "Look what we're doing." 

Harry can't help but laugh, his hips arching, chasing that delicious friction. It isn't enough to get him off, he can tell, but it feels so good. "Think we can make each other come like this?" he asks, grazing his fingers up and down Niall's spine before lifting his head to lick playfully at Niall's bottom lip. 

Niall answers with a low, sweet moan that's immediately muffled by the press of their mouths together. It feels different from kissing Niall as a boy, though not drastically so. The taste is slightly different and it takes a moment for Harry to figure out why. When it registers, he can't help the heady groan that pulls free of his chest, his hands clamping down hard on Niall's hips as his whole body rocks upward, cunt sliding wetly against Niall's thigh. 

"Fuck, I can taste me on you," he growls on a shuddered inhale, Niall ducking to mouth at his jaw. 

"Shit, really?" Niall asks, pulling back to stare. 

Again, Harry is struck by how very, very pretty Niall is like this and how, despite all his softer features, he still looks very much like _Niall._

Grinning, Harry feels a fresh wave of fondness wash over him, and he moves one hand to touch Niall's lips lightly. "Mm-hmm," he says, tracing the redness, his other hand sliding down Niall's back to grip his bottom, using the leverage to pull Niall harder against his thigh. "Could show you." 

Niall blinks, his brow furrowing adorably before clearing with realization. 

"Yeah, definitely," Niall says quickly enough to make Harry laugh again, delighted by his enthusiasm. They move in a blur of limbs, Niall dropping onto his back as Harry crouches above him, legs rearranged and pillows moved in the name of comfort. And then Harry's kissing his way down Niall's smooth, flat stomach, tongue dipping shallowly into his navel as he curls his hands around the flare of Niall's hips. 

"You smell really good," he murmurs, kissing lower little by little, and Niall giggles and squirms beneath him, drops a hand into Harry's hair. 

"Easy to see why all the girls like you so much," Niall says, clearly teasing. 

Harry nips at the delicate skin of Niall's pelvis, drags his nose along the tight, coarse hair of his pubes. "Couldn't see it before?" 

"Sure," Niall says with a shrug, fingers grazing down the line of Harry's jaw. "Different like this, though." 

A part of Harry wants to mention that he talks this way with boys, too. That it isn't a line, isn't just because he wants to get into Niall's pants (they're far past that anyway), isn't for any reason other than that it's true. But then he's worried Niall might ask for more details, or clarification. Because he's a curious lad and, while Harry's never been particularly shy about showing his affection for boys as well as girls, they've never really talked about it. And he's certainly never mentioned going as far with anyone as he did with Louis. 

He can't talk about Louis right now. And he can't lie. 

So instead, he just grins. "Gonna eat you out now, okay?" he says, and doesn't give Niall a chance to argue before ducking to drag his tongue between Niall's slick folds. He's done this before, though only once, but it's enough to keep him from being nervous about doing it again. Sliding his palms under Niall's bum, he sort of tilts him, his nose brushing over Niall's clit as he laps at the length of Niall's pussy, slipping lower and deeper as he goes. 

He's not really thinking when he strays a little lower, his tongue flicking out against the pucker of Niall's asshole just once. Niall gasps, and his legs sort of press in, thighs against Harry's ears. "Sorry," Harry apologizes lowly, his mouth up over Niall's cunt again, and Niall relaxes back. 

"No, s'okay," Niall answers breathily. "Just wasn't ready for it." He's silent for a moment, fingers stroking through Harry's hair as Harry kisses his inner thigh, then he adds quietly, "You can do it again. If you want." 

The truth is Harry hasn't done much of that anyway, and never with a girl, just a couple times with Louis. But it doesn't scare him, it never has, and with Niall sounding like he wants to try it again, Harry doesn't hesitate to oblige. 

He's slower about it the second time, kissing and sucking at Niall's folds as he moves down, smelling the heavy scent of him, so turned on. Harry pauses to press the width of his tongue inside, partially because of the way it makes Niall buck and mewl, but also because he wants a deeper taste, loves the feeling of Niall's slickness on his tongue. 

Niall's still trembling when he moves the last inch downward, and he cries out sharply when Harry licks over his hole this time, much more slowly. He does it again, can feel the way Niall's muscles clench, can tell by the way Niall's breathing that he's getting off on it, that he wants it. It makes something twist in Harry's belly, and even though he can still smell Niall's pussy, he imagines he's doing this to the Niall he's more familiar with, wonders a little crazily if Niall would let him do this again when ( _if_ ) everything goes back to normal. 

That line of thinking is probably a bad idea, so Harry forces himself to move back up, closing his lips around Niall's clit and sucking. Niall's hips lift suddenly into Harry's face and Harry rides them back to keep from having his nose broken, one hand moving to press Niall's pelvis to the bed. He curls his tongue around the nub again and Niall pulls at his hair, fighting to arch even with Harry pinning him down. 

"Harry," he groans, shoving his hand down between his thighs, past Harry's jaw, clearly trying to push inside himself. "Come, come on, Harry," he pants, shaking all over. "Please, Harry please, _please_." 

It doesn't take a genius to figure out what Niall's begging for and Harry groans his approval, glancing up briefly to take in the quick rise and fall of Niall's chest as he brushes Niall's fingers aside in place of his own. He sinks in easily again, Niall deliciously slick with spit and his own juices. 

"Holy fuck, you feel good," Harry grunts, starting a quick, deep rhythm right from the start, his mouth hovering just over Niall's cunt as he pounds in. 

Niall whines, his feet slipping on the sheets as he tries to spread his legs wider, hips pushing up off the mattress to meet each thrust. "Fuck. Yeah, _yeah_. God, Harry. Oh my _god_." 

Just like the last time, Harry can feel his own pleasure pooling in the pit of his stomach. It makes him squirm a bit, makes him ache for a friction he isn't sure how to get. It'd be easy if he still had his cock, he could just grind against the bed like Niall had done, hump himself to orgasm with his face buried between Niall's legs. As it is, all he can do is ache, desperate to be touched, to be _filled_ , and completely incapable of doing either at the moment. He simply lacks the coordination entirely. 

So he tries to focus as much as he can, the muscles in his arm aching as he continues pumping his fingers into Niall's hole, his other hand gripping Niall's thigh, keeping him spread wide. He sucks at Niall's clit, only letting go to drag his tongue up the center, lapping at the juices. The entire lower half of his face is a mess of sticky wetness, and soon he hears the break and catch in Niall's voice and feels the hot clench of pulsing muscle around his fingers. 

He pulls back just enough to watch the pleasure wash over Niall, still thrusting his fingers in and out, though more slowly now. 

"Think I like this," he murmurs against Niall's inner thigh as Niall rests heavily back into the mattress. And whether he means licking pussy or licking Niall in particular, he isn't really sure. 

"Me too," Niall pants in agreement, and Harry is sort of enthralled by the way he can feel Niall's heartbeat around his fingers, racing still but slowing bit by bit. He thinks he'd be perfectly content to leave himself buried here, just feeling Niall from the inside, but Niall's sudden grunt of pain alerts Harry to the now familiar change as it begins to happen. He pulls himself free and closes his eyes; he doesn't want to watch it again, though it's somehow almost more difficult to only just hear Niall panting and whimpering in pain. 

Once Niall goes still, Harry opens his eyes and finds himself very close to Niall's flaccid cock. He lets out a breath and it twitches feebly as warm air ghosts over it. Niall smells different now, obviously, and Harry inhales the musky, masculine scent, his body trembling with a sudden wave of intense arousal. 

"Fuck," he whispers, pushing himself back onto his knees. He feels lightheaded and dizzy, turned on and sore, his cunt throbbing between his thighs so intensely that he has to push his hand down over it to blunt the ache. He has an insane, manic thought about how bad he wishes Niall were hard right now, how he'd just climb atop him and use him, fuck himself down until the feeling of needing to be filled finally went away. 

But Niall's exhausted, for one, spent from coming twice in relatively quick succession. Not only that, but even if Niall could get hard right now, they really shouldn't risk Niall coming again, not after everything they've been through in the last couple of hours. 

It doesn't stop Harry from wanting it, though, and he groans in frustration. 

"Harry," Niall says, and Harry finally notices that Niall's sat up, watching him. "Do you want me to try?" he asks, gesturing toward Harry's crotch. 

"I don't know," Harry replies, because yeah, he wants to be fucked, and he definitely wants to try to make himself a boy again, but he's a little raw from the last time Niall fingered him, and what he really wants he can't have. 

"Please. Let me try," Niall implores, his eyes wide and caring. "I'll be gentle with you. Or not, whatever you need. Just _please. Let me."_

Harry takes a breath, looking at Niall's face for a long moment before he nods, rewarded immediately with Niall's smile. 

"How do you want it?" Niall asks, pushing up to his knees and moving closer to Harry, his fingers brushing over the back of Harry's hand still cupped over his groin. "Shall I try licking you out again?" 

"No," Harry says, pulling his hand away and grabbing at Niall's wrist. "I need something in me," he goes on, his voice rough and desperate. He fights the urge to tell Niall what he really needs, licking his lips as he tugs on Niall's arm. 

"Okay," Niall replies, low and breathy as he turns his hand to press his palm against Harry's pussy, middle finger slotting into the wet center. 

Harry shudders, his knees slipping on the mattress as he tries to spread wider, encouraging as well as he's able with his own hand still wrapped around Niall's forearm. "Yeah, that's… more. C'mon, need more." 

With a nod, Niall pushes in a second finger, his eyes wide as he stares at Harry, lips parted. And it feels good, of course it does. It feels incredible. He's sore, but Niall's gentle, as promised, moving his fingers in and out in a rhythm Harry realizes he's steering. He's got his other hand on Niall's shoulder, clinging as he whimpers and Niall murmurs, "Should lay down." 

"Mm-mm," Harry replies, shaking his head quickly and bucking his hips a little harder, desperately trying to get Niall deeper. "Just… fuck, I need _more_." 

"Okay," Niall says before crowding in close, wrapping his free arm tight around Harry's middle, supporting him as he keeps shoving in with his fingers. It's rougher now, hurts a little, but that somehow makes it _better_ , and Harry lets his head drop back as he sinks into it, lets Niall hold him up, just taking it. 

But it's still not enough, the angle all off, and he can tell Niall's arm is getting tired, can feel it when he starts shaking a little, his breathing strained. Pulling back, Harry glances down, hope crashing into disappointment when he sees Niall's still not hard.

Biting back a whine, Harry shoves at Niall gently. "Down. Lie down," he murmurs, feeling an intense sense of fondness when Niall obeys immediately. His eyes never leave Harry's face, brows drawn in confusion and skin still flushed a pretty pink as Harry crawls over him. This time, Harry doesn't bother to ask or warn him at all, just bends down to suck Niall right into his mouth. 

It's not at all like the other times he's done this and not just because Louis' is the only cock Harry's ever had in his mouth. It's different because Louis has always been hard long before Harry could blow him, already aching just from kissing, from touching, from the promise of getting Harry's mouth on him. So the soft, heavy weight of Niall's limp cock is definitely weird. 

Not unpleasant though. At all. 

Niall shivers beneath him, reaches down to bury his fingers into Harry's hair as Harry wraps a hand around his dick, guiding his foreskin back to lick at the salty-sweet tip. 

" _Je_ -sus, Harry," Niall gasps, his entire body jolting, which Harry reads as open encouragement, sinking down low enough to take all of Niall into his mouth, his hand wandering to cradle the soft skin of his balls. He squeezes them gently in his palm and Niall moans, Harry feeling a little comforted, knowing his skills in this area aren't half bad. 

Taking a cue from earlier, Harry lets go of Niall's testicles, his hand sliding further downward, fingers searching. He sucks at Niall's dick in his mouth, feeling it just beginning to thicken, taking up a little more space on his tongue. It jolts as Harry's fingertips brush the damp pucker of Niall's asshole, and he's careful to rub over it cautiously, to not make any movements that Niall would take the wrong way. 

"God, Hazza," Niall breathes, his cock growing a little at a time as Harry continues to lick around it, able now to sort of bob his head. "You're good, you're so good at this," he goes on, sounding awed, and Harry moans around Niall's widening girth, hoping Niall's not trying to figure out just how Harry got so proficient at sucking dick. 

Niall's body is rocking against him, and he keeps fondling Niall's ass, occasionally his balls, feeling suddenly a little bad that he's planning to get Niall hard and not let him come. He can make it up to Niall later, take him out to dinner or something, once they're all guys again and things are back the way they should be. Niall will understand. 

He's finally really getting there, Niall filling his mouth enough that Harry can't take all of it. Just a couple minutes more and Harry will be able to get what he needs, will be filled the way his body is begging for, will orgasm and fix everything. 

The knock on the door actually makes him scream, the sound muffled as he pulls off Niall's dick and punches the mattress with his free hand. He contemplates shouting at whoever it is to go away as Niall tugs at his hair, trying to get him to go back down. 

"It's Zayn, I'm comin' in." 

Niall has just enough time to fling the covers over himself and push up to his elbows as Harry crawls off, arms crossed over his chest in a pout. 

"Oh," Zayn says, pausing in the doorway, his gaze skimming over Niall before tripping on Harry. "Take it you're not done then." 

"Very astute," Harry grumbles which makes Zayn's eyes narrow a bit. 

"What happened?" 

____"Sex," Harry replies, deadpan. "Sex happened, Zayn. Loads of it. Would you like the details?"_ _ _ _

____Zayn's nose wrinkles into a proper scowl, though he's clearly more irritated than actually disgusted at the notion. "We're running out of time, mate."_ _ _ _

____"Yes, I know," Harry says, dropping his arms with a sigh. Glancing back over his shoulder, he notices Niall picking at the duvet at with slumped shoulders and feels a pang of guilt low in his gut, momentarily overpowering the frustration and irritation running through his veins. "Hey, it's not your fault," he tells him, keeping his voice low, intended solely for Niall. "Things were just getting good before Zayn had to interrupt."_ _ _ _

____Zayn lets out a rough snort. "And good that I did! You two would've been in here all day just swappin' back and forth."_ _ _ _

____"We wouldn't!" Harry argues. "We were nearly there!"_ _ _ _

____Zayn replies with only an eyeroll and shake of his head before motioning at Niall. "Good to see you back to normal, at least."_ _ _ _

____"Good to have me willy back," Niall agrees with a very faint smile._ _ _ _

____"Yes, everything is quite good," Harry interjects, the jittery, aching want still buzzing under his skin. "If you don't mind giving us a bit of privacy, this can all go from good to grand in about two minutes."_ _ _ _

____"Starting to sound like Louis," Zayn says and Harry honestly can't tell whether or not it's meant as an insult. He doesn't particularly care either and only glares as Zayn glances from him to Niall and back again before shaking his head. "Yeah, no. Niall, you should come back with me. Harry, you can stay and have a nice wank, yeah? Should take care of it."_ _ _ _

____Thing is, Zayn probably isn't wrong and Harry knows it. Of course it makes sense for Niall to leave; they've spent the past however long switching back and forth as Zayn said, and they really shouldn't risk doing it further. Eventually they'd reach a point where they just couldn't come anymore, he's pretty sure. But Niall has a penis now, and a nice one at that, and Harry wants it _in_ him so very badly._ _ _ _

____Niall's shifting off the bed before Harry can protest, and Harry throws Zayn another quick glare, just for the sake of it._ _ _ _

____"You'll be alright, won't you, Harry?" Niall asks after he's slipped on his pants._ _ _ _

____"Yeah," Harry replies, though he isn't at all happy about it. Turning his attention back on Zayn, Harry gives a slight jut of his chin. "Don't happen to have anything vaguely phallic on you, do you?"_ _ _ _

____"You mean aside from my penis?" Zayn replies, the corner of his lips twitching into a faint grin. He holds up the weird cross thing he's been carrying around for the past few weeks and shrugs. "Sorry, mate. Just this. Think it might hurt a bit, yeah?"_ _ _ _

____Harry grimaces. He'd largely been joking, but the thought of letting those steely, rusty metal pieces anywhere near such a sensitive part of his body is almost enough to bank his arousal completely._ _ _ _

____Niall tosses him one last apologetic look as he and Zayn leave, lingering a bit before Zayn forces the door closed and Harry drops back onto the bed with a loud, frustrated groan. Despite his overall irritation, there's still an itch beneath his skin and Harry closes his eyes tight, trying desperately to shove aside thoughts of causing Zayn bodily harm as he slides his hand down his belly, fingers slipping easily between his folds again. The quicker he gets this done with the better._ _ _ _

____He's a little better at this now than he was a day ago, has a clearer idea of where to touch, and what might feel the best. With his eyes still closed, he tries to remember the way Niall had felt inside him, the stretch and fullness as he circles one finger over his clit, experimenting a little with the pressure._ _ _ _

____Somewhat traitorously, his mind keeps tripping back to thoughts of Louis, to the soft dip of his spine, the warmth of his mouth and heated clench of his body when Harry'd been buried deep. Whining, Harry reaches further down to slip the tips of two fingers inside himself, back arching as he tries to get a better angle. He continues to touch his clit with his other hand, and it feels good, of course it does, but it still doesn't feel like _enough_._ _ _ _

____Harry spreads his legs a little wider and bites his lip, lets himself give in to whatever his mind wants to focus on: the clumsy fumble of Niall's hand on his cock, the wet, sloppy suction of Louis' mouth, the sweet pitch of Niall's moan, the soft tickle and warm breath of Louis' lips against his ear. No image sticks too long, one quickly bleeding into another as Harry pumps his fingers, hips arched up of the bed to meet each thrust. His orgasm sneaks up on him this time, cresting when Harry isn't expecting it, muscles clenching and pulsing around his fingers as he lets out a quiet, whimpered gasp._ _ _ _

____As he gently slips his fingers free, Harry can't help wishing Louis hadn't been so freaked out over everything, that he might've known how it felt to have Louis inside him. He's starting to feel more and more sure Louis won't want to so much as kiss him ever again and just like that, any sort of euphoric, post-orgasm high he might've had is dashed._ _ _ _

____Rolling onto his side, Harry pulls his knees up and closes his eyes, preparing for the onslaught of bone-twisting pain he knows to expect now._ _ _ _

____Except it never comes._ _ _ _

____:::_ _ _ _

____Liam and Zayn manage to hold Louis off for about forty minutes before finally giving in, Zayn volunteering to go over to the other room to check on Harry and Niall. It's pretty clear that Louis wants to go himself, but even Zayn can see something's not right there, and he heads Louis off before he can can get to the door._ _ _ _

____"Back in a tick," Zayn says as he slips into the hallway, and it's like all the fight drains out of Louis as the door clicks closed behind him, Louis' head dropping to hang between his shoulders. He just stands there for a long moment and Liam can feel melancholy radiating off him. As much as he's tired of Louis biting his head off, Liam does care about him; he can't just leave him like this, clearly hurting._ _ _ _

____"Louis?" he tries, and he's about to get up off the bed to go to Louis' side when Louis straightens up, staring forward at the door._ _ _ _

____"I'm in love with him," he says, and his voice is even, but he sounds defeated and exhausted. Liam doesn't have to ask Louis who he means, but he doesn't know what else to say either. He's trying to form words when Louis turns to look him in the eye, and he can see the anguish written across Louis' face. "I'm in love with him, Liam. And I'm scared to death."_ _ _ _

____There's another moment of silence between them, and a big part of Liam wants to rush over and pull Louis into his arms, but something keeps him where he is. "There was no girl, was there," he finally says, and it's not a question, not really._ _ _ _

____Louis answers him anyway. "No," he replies, turning his eyes toward the carpet. "I know I shouldn't have let it happen," he goes on, not waiting for Liam to speak. "He's just a kid, and I know better, but I…" Louis stops, sniffing once. "But I did it anyway, and now look what's happened. Everything's a fucking disaster and he's… He's in there with Niall and I've fucked up _everything_."_ _ _ _

____"Oh Louis," Liam says softly, and this time he does get up, reaches to place a careful hand on Louis' arm. "You haven't. I mean, you didn't know this would happen, did you?"_ _ _ _

____"No," Louis admits, lifting his eyes to Liam's. "It's never happened before. Like, I've never turned a girl into a boy or anything."_ _ _ _

____Liam nods. "You didn't change either," he points out. "I wonder if it has to do with Harry."_ _ _ _

____"Maybe," Louis replies, licking his lips. "But we've… That was the first time we'd had, like, full on, proper sex, but it wasn't the first time we'd messed around."_ _ _ _

____Liam frowns, and he wishes he could say it was only because he was thinking over the possibilities surrounding Harry's transformation. He should have seen this happening, Harry and Louis. The signs were there, obvious, but Liam had never let himself really notice. There are concerns, of course, because they're a tightly knit group and any fallout between two of them could tear them all apart. Then of course there's the fans, their public persona, their image, but that doesn't really matter so much now, not in the face of the issue at hand._ _ _ _

____"We'll figure it out. All of it," Liam says, even though both he and Louis know he's stretching the truth at best._ _ _ _

____"Will we?" Louis wants to know, and his tone is back to the same cynical color it's had for the last two days. "Let's say this all works out and Harry and Niall get back to normal. What do they do for the rest of their lives? Become celibate? What if this was my fault, and I've done this to them? All because I was selfish enough to fall in love with someone I shouldn't have."_ _ _ _

____"Who says you shouldn't?" Liam replies, and he's surprised by Louis' eyes, bright and wide, on his own._ _ _ _

____"Well, for one, I thought you would," he replies, lips twisted in the hint of a smile. "I know you're already thinking of reasons why it's a bad idea."_ _ _ _

____"Well," Liam echos, shrugging. "I can't say I don't have concerns," he goes on, and Louis rolls his eyes. "But love… It's not really a choice, is it?" Louis looks at him, blinking for a moment, then shaking his head in agreement. "Does Harry know?" Liam asks then, and Louis looks confused._ _ _ _

____"Does Harry know what?"_ _ _ _

____"That you're in love with him," Liam clarifies. "Something tells me he wouldn't be so keen to be in there helping Niall if he knew."_ _ _ _

____Louis scowls. "No," he says, another rye smile on his mouth. "You know I'm gonna hurt him, Lee. It's only a matter of time."_ _ _ _

____"You think not telling him you love him will make it hurt less?" Liam asks, but he's not really looking for Louis to answer. "He's a wreck right now, Lou. And he definitely seems less than happy with you."_ _ _ _

____"Do you think I know what I'm doing here?" Louis snaps, but then he looks immediately apologetic. "I've never been with a guy like this," he goes on, lowering his voice like someone might be listening in on them. "I've never felt like this about a boy, Liam. But with Harry…" He pauses, taking a breath._ _ _ _

____"The day I met him, I couldn't take my eyes off him," he continues, his expression gentling with the memory. "I don't know what happened, what it was about him. And he just made it worse, flirting with me, cuddling. I tried to ignore it, like, to just play it off as being friends. But then Harry told me, the day we moved into the house." Louis stops, swallowing, and Liam can feel himself holding his breath, attention rapt. "He waited until you lads were out of the room and he told me he had a crush on me. He told me he knew it was probably just him and he was sorry, but I told him it was mutual. He kissed me on the cheek. I kissed him on the mouth."_ _ _ _

____Louis pauses again, sliding his fingers into the hair at the back of his head and tugging a bit. "It's been going on since then. Whenever we could sneak off, a couple times in the room–"_ _ _ _

____"Oh God, the sleepwalking," Liam groans, and Louis laughs in spite of himself._ _ _ _

____"I do sleepwalk," Louis says with a little smile. "The first time really was an accident. Just Harry wouldn't let me go back to my bed, not until I kissed him."_ _ _ _

____Liam feels himself returning the smile. The image is sweet; he can imagine Harry's coy little grin, his big, beguiling eyes. Harry can get away with anything when he uses that puppydog look of his. He's not surprised that Louis couldn't say no to Harry, from way back at the beginning until now, especially considering how clear it is that Louis never really wanted to._ _ _ _

____"Anyway, it just went–" Louis starts to continue, but he's cut off when the door opens, Zayn coming into the room with Niall – back to normal, boy Niall – behind him._ _ _ _

____"Where's Harry?" Louis asks immediately when the door shuts behind Niall, and Zayn meets Liam's eyes for a second before he looks back to Louis._ _ _ _

____"He's, like. He's a girl again," Zayn says, looking sheepish like it's his fault somehow._ _ _ _

____"He's what?" Liam asks. "How?"_ _ _ _

____"I'm _sorry_ ," Niall responds, crossing to the bed and throwing himself down on it._ _ _ _

____"Guess they sort of, like, swapped back and forth a bit," Zayn explains, and Liam actually looks to Louis intentionally, hoping his expression comes across as sympathetic. "So Harry's, like, trying to take care of it himself," Zayn goes on, moving to sit on the end of the bed with Niall, and Liam can tell that Louis is a little relieved by that fact, but his shoulders are still tense, his jaw set._ _ _ _

____"Think he'll have a better chance than Niall did?" Liam asks, standing next to Louis, keeping him at his side._ _ _ _

____"Probably," Niall replies, though he's definitely pouting. "Seemed to know what he was doing, I mean," he further explains, and Louis shifts beside Liam, anxious. Liam wraps an arm around his shoulders._ _ _ _

____After that no one seems to know what to say, Niall and Zayn sitting on the bed and Liam and Louis standing, facing them, everyone silent. Zayn pulls the cross out and starts fiddling with it, Niall glancing over and eyeing it cautiously._ _ _ _

____"Still don't like that thing," he says and Zayn shrugs, not even looking up._ _ _ _

____"S'cool looking," he says, slotting his fingers and thumb into the corners, holding it as he runs the tip of his opposite index finger over the three lines on the face._ _ _ _

____"It's wicked creepy is what it is," Niall disagrees, folding his arms across his chest. Zayn looks like he might have something else to say about it, but before he has an opportunity the door opens and Liam turns to see Harry come in, small female frame enveloped by one of his own t-shirts._ _ _ _

____"Couldn't do it?" Niall asks and Harry shakes his head, expression grumpy._ _ _ _

____"Did it just fine. Just didn't work. Obviously," he replies testily._ _ _ _

____"Shit," Niall swears, looking guilty. "I should have stayed. I'm so sorry, Hazza."_ _ _ _

____"Nah, s'not your fault," Harry says, some of the anger bleeding out of him. "Guess you just have to do it with someone else or something."_ _ _ _

____Liam can't help the heavy sigh that works its way from deep in his belly, and he rubs at his eyes. "We're going to have to tell people," he says, palm still covering his face. "We're due downstairs for our interview in less than two hours."_ _ _ _

____"Let me try again," Niall interjects, his tone urgent, and Liam drops his arm to meet Niall's eyes. "I can do it right this time."_ _ _ _

____"No," Louis disagrees, sounding a little harsh. "Not you," he says, his gaze hard on Niall for a long moment before he turns to look at Harry. "I'll do it," he adds, eyes never leaving Harry's face._ _ _ _

____Liam looks at Harry as well, notices his frown immediately. "But won't you change then?" Zayn wonders, sharing a concerned expression with Liam. "I mean, won't any of us?"_ _ _ _

____"I won't," Louis replies, and Liam knows why he can be so sure, but no one else does, which prompts Niall to ask, "Who says you won't?"_ _ _ _

____"I know I won't," Louis answers, leveling a hard gaze on Niall, and Liam can tell he's hoping that will be the end of it._ _ _ _

____Of course this is Niall, who doesn't really take those sort of hints, even when he can detect them. "But _how_? You some kind of psychic and you never told us before?"_ _ _ _

____Louis sighs hard, rubbing his fingers against the center of his forehead, and Harry turns his eyes down to the carpet. Liam can't tell if it's because he's trying to hide his anger, or keep himself from crying._ _ _ _

____Louis takes a breath, glancing at Harry and his bowed head, then over to Liam, meeting his eyes like he's trying to draw strength from him. Liam nods, not because he thinks Louis needs his permission, but because he really does think honesty is the best course at this point._ _ _ _

____"I know I won't change this time," he says, his voice strong as he looks back at Niall, "because I didn't last time."_ _ _ _

____Niall blinks twice, and his eyes shift like he's trying to parse what Louis's saying. It doesn't seem to click for him, but only a couple of seconds later Zayn's mouth drops open, his gaze moving from Louis to Harry to Louis again._ _ _ _

____"Yes, we had sex," Louis says, sounding exasperated. "And yes, he was with me when he changed the first time. It was me, not some girl. I know very well that it's probably my fault this happened."_ _ _ _

____Niall's eyes are so wide Liam's worried his eyeballs might actually fall out of his head. "You, you and Harry?" he stammers a bit, gesturing vaguely with his hands. "Like, are you together?" he asks, his voice a little high, and Louis sighs._ _ _ _

____"We're not," Harry answers before Louis has a chance. "It was just messing about, nothing serious," he continues, standing up straight with his arms crossed. His expression is stoic, lips pressed tightly together, appearing unaffected._ _ _ _

____Louis, on the other hand, looks like he's been slapped across the face. He and Harry are staring right at each other, Harry fuming and Louis unmoving like he doesn't know what to do or say, desperately trying to get Harry to understand him by his expression alone._ _ _ _

____"Lads," Liam says softly a moment later, because as much as he hates to do it, he has to be the one to remind them they're on a deadline. "Whatever we decide, people are expecting to see us downstairs in about ninety minutes," he tells them as delicately as possible._ _ _ _

____"Right, gotcha," Harry says, tone clipped. "We doing this then?" he asks Louis, and it sounds so cold that Liam gets goosebumps._ _ _ _

____Louis swallows, his face going blank. "Yeah," he replies, matching Harry's intonation. "Let's take care of business," he adds, gesturing toward the door, waiting for Harry to approach it before he follows him. Liam thinks about catching Louis before he goes, making sure he's okay, but he figures it will probably just make things worse. If they can get Harry back to normal in time for this interview, they can deal with the personal drama later._ _ _ _

____"What the _fuck_?" Niall says as soon as the door shuts behind Louis, throwing up his hands. "Why didn't they just fucking _tell_ us?" he asks, sounding a little hysterical._ _ _ _

____"Louis felt guilty about it, didn't he?" Zayn answers. "And, like, it's them havin' sex together. Like, gay sex. Bit of a shock, that."_ _ _ _

____"Gay sex is better than thinkin' you been cursed by a witch!" Niall replies, pushing up off the bed, too riled to stay still._ _ _ _

____"Being cursed by Louis is better?" Liam asks, managing to mostly hide his smile._ _ _ _

____"Right, take the piss," Niall says, pouting. "You weren't the one who lost his dick for three hours."_ _ _ _

____"I'm sorry," Liam says sincerely, crossing to Niall and patting him on the arm. "But you can tell there's something a little… intense. Between Harry and Louis."_ _ _ _

____"Sort of their way, isn't it?" Zayn muses, still sat on the end of the bed. "Guess we should have seen it coming."_ _ _ _

____Zayn's looking right at Liam when he says it, and there's something there in his eyes that seems deeper somehow, a little searching. Liam's heart skips a beat and he swallows against it, feeling a bit shaken, almost like Zayn's seeing something in him he thought was hidden. Of course it could just be that his nerves are shot and he's imagining all of this; he certainly can't be blamed for being kind of screwed up after everything._ _ _ _

____Still, he goes to sit beside Zayn on the end of the bed, and Zayn doesn't shift away. He doesn't reach out and touch Liam or anything either, but for now just the normal amount of comfort between them feels like more than enough. None of them have any idea what's going to happen in the other room, if Harry's going to come back as a girl or a boy, if Harry and Louis will be speaking to each other. All they can do is wait and see._ _ _ _

____:::_ _ _ _

____Harry doesn't bother to check that Louis follows, but like some kind of sixth sense – some kind of _Louis_ sense – Harry knows he is. Louis is just close enough to catch the hotel door before it slams shut and Harry heads straight for the bed, peeling off his t-shirt as he goes before flopping down on the mattress. There's still a wet spot on the sheets and Harry wiggles away from it, lips drawn in a thin line, his gaze moving from the ceiling to the wall to the telly, anywhere but on where Louis is standing just a few feet away._ _ _ _

____"Let's get it done, yeah?" Harry says, trying his hardest to keep his voice cool and even. He's never felt less of a desire to fuck in his life, which is not a little bit scary considering the dire need for it right now. Not to mention the fact that he's pretty much hungered for Louis since the moment they met. This doesn't feel natural at all._ _ _ _

____Finally letting himself glance over at Louis, he tries to ignore the painful swoop in his belly when their eyes meet. The expression on Louis' face isn't quite what Harry'd been expecting, less angry and more wounded. It makes Harry ache a little, makes him feel _guilty_ though he has no idea why. What right does Louis have to be upset anyway? It's not like he's the one who's had to deal with losing his dick over and over. In fact, he'd been pretty adamant about not wanting to deal with it at all._ _ _ _

____Harry's almost grateful for the way anger shoves at the guilt inside him and he pushes up to his elbows, eyes locked on Louis' as Louis continues to just stand there, staring._ _ _ _

____"Right. I know this is about the grossest thing you can imagine, but if it makes you feel better, I'm not thrilled either. Let's just get it over with."_ _ _ _

____Louis holds his gaze for a couple more seconds before he drops his eyes to the floor. "It's not gross," he says, and he sounds sort of bitchy in a way that makes Harry even less interested in what's about to happen. Harry can see the way Louis' hunched shoulders lift as he inhales, then fall with his sigh._ _ _ _

____"You're actually really cute," Louis goes on, raising his gaze. "If you weren't you I'd probably be acting like an idiot, trying to get into your knickers."_ _ _ _

____"If I weren't me," Harry repeats, and it comes out sounding even more offended than he feels. "But it _is_ me, Louis," he goes on, keeping his tone clipped. "So sorry about that. Can't you just close your eyes and pretend I'm someone else or something?"_ _ _ _

____"I don't want someone else," Louis replies. "I know I've been a twat, but this is exactly the opposite of not wanting you."_ _ _ _

____"You're making no fucking sense!" Harry shouts, sitting all the way up. "You've been shoving me away since the second this happened, lying to everyone. It's pretty obvious you never really _wanted_ me in the first place."_ _ _ _

____"Well, look at you!" Louis yells back. "You're not, you've got…" He throws his hands up with another sigh. "You're barely seventeen and my best friend and I shouldn't have fucked you. I should have been more careful. Because look what I've done to you, Harry. I'm just fucking fine and you're like _that_."_ _ _ _

____"It's not your fault, you fucking ass," Harry replies. "God. Neither one of us knew this would happen. And it's not up to you to say if I'm too young, for this or anything. I wanted it. I thought _you_ wanted it."_ _ _ _

____"I _did_ ," Louis says, and he's worked up, his chest heaving with his breath, nostrils flaring. "Fuck, Harry, you have no idea–"_ _ _ _

____"Because you won't say," Harry cuts him off, dropping his hands into his lap. He feels the hot prickling of tears behind his eyes, but he will not let himself cry in front of Louis. He'd rather die. "You haven't talked to me," he goes on, digging his fingernails into his knees. "You keep running away, or make everything a joke. I don't know if you hate me or you're disgusted by me or you just wanted to try me out and you're done with me now."_ _ _ _

____Louis doesn't answer for a long few seconds, and Harry forces himself to breathe evenly, to keep a hold of his anger so he won't give in to the fear and the heartache welling in him. He hates the way he watches Louis' tongue when it comes out to wet his lips, but he doesn't take his eyes away, just inhales and squares his shoulders._ _ _ _

____"I don't hate you," Louis says, and it's quiet, but Harry can't read it any other way than sincere. "I didn't… it wasn't meant to be a one night thing." Louis stops, looking down again, and Harry's more than a little shocked when Louis lifts his chin and a tear rolls down his cheek. "It's, like. Harry."_ _ _ _

____He's clearly struggling now, and Harry doesn't know what to do, what he even wants to do. He's shaking, just watching, waiting. He has to let Louis speak, has to hear it._ _ _ _

____"I'm…" Louis tries to start again, and he closes his eyes, balling his fists. "I'm in love with you," he says, doesn't open his eyes until it's out, and he looks terrified as he meets Harry's gaze. "I'm in love with you," he pushes on, voice rough, "and you, like, you weren't _you_ anymore. I ruined you, Harry, I fucked everything up."_ _ _ _

____Despite the twisted up anger and confusion and hurt that's been rattling through him since this whole mess started, Harry somehow doesn't find that surprising. Or at least not _too_ surprising. Then again, after spending the past day and a half switching genitalia back and forth, he's really not sure he could find anything surprising anymore._ _ _ _

____Still, it's enough of a revelation to make Harry's mouth go dry, his stomach flipping all over again, though with a decidedly different momentum. His voice, when he finds it, is a little shakier, but he manages to keep his eyes locked on Louis._ _ _ _

____"I'm still me," he manages, ignoring the way Louis' mouth twitches down at one corner and barreling onward before Louis can argue. "I'm still _me_. What does it matter if I have a dick or not? Nothing changed but my body."_ _ _ _

____"That's enough, isn't it? To, like. Freak out."_ _ _ _

____Louis's quieter now and he's crossed his arms over his chest, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He makes an aborted, vague motion at Harry's bare torso. "Not, like. It's not a bad body or anything. Like I said. But it's not… it's not the body I fell in love with, Harry."_ _ _ _

____It's the third time Louis's used some variation of that phrase and Harry can't help noticing the way it sounds more natural each time. More _real_._ _ _ _

____God. Louis _loves_ him._ _ _ _

____It's enough to make some of the ache slip away and he shifts quietly up to his knees, shuffling along the mattress to kneel in front of Louis. Tentatively, he reaches out to touch the bottom hem of Louis' shirt, giving Louis more than enough time to pull away. And Louis tracks the movement, brow furrowed and body still tense. But he doesn't pull away. Harry takes that as a good sign._ _ _ _

____"Would you still love me if I shaved my head and got a load of facial piercings and, I dunno, like gained a hundred kilos?"_ _ _ _

____Louis blinks in response, lips twitching again as the crinkles by his eyes deepen. "Not sure about the hair," he says, the familiar tease in his tone making Harry's chest feel instantly lighter._ _ _ _

____Grinning, Harry tugs at Louis' shirt and shifts closer._ _ _ _

____"It's still me is what I'm saying," he murmurs. "There's no real difference. And it's not your fault. Like, I don't know what it is, but it happened with Niall too, so it can't just be you."_ _ _ _

____Louis winces then, his gaze skirting away from Harry's before he steps back. "Yeah, Niall."_ _ _ _

____Harry's not sure what he feels now, faced with such obvious jealousy. He'd been with Niall because Niall wanted him when he was sure Louis did not, and part of it might have been to get back at Louis, but most of it was to get _over_ him._ _ _ _

____"You didn't want me," Harry says, sitting down on his feet at the edge of the bed. "I thought you were ashamed of what we'd done, that you regretted it and wanted to pretend it didn't happen."_ _ _ _

____"I was…" Louis tries, shaking his head. "I was scared. Of what Liam would say. Or everyone, really. You know there are risks, things that could get really fucked up if you and me–" He stops, looking a little miserable. "I didn't know you'd turn around and fuck Niall the next day."_ _ _ _

____"I didn't go looking for it," Harry replies, his hackles rising again. "The first time it just kinda happened."_ _ _ _

____"Let me guess, you just tripped and fell on his dick?" Louis snaps back, but he looks immediately apologetic. "Like, I get you were upset with me," he goes on, exhaling heavily. "But you didn't ask me. Like, about any of those things you were thinking. You just wrote me off, and gave yourself up to the next person who wanted some."_ _ _ _

____"It's not like that," Harry replies, his voice breaking in a way that makes him angry with himself. "It was Niall, not some stranger. Things were a mess, I was heartbroken." Louis finches at that, but Harry continues. "He wanted me and I wanted to feel wanted, I guess. You never would have known if we hadn't changed."_ _ _ _

____It's clear Louis has more questions, but he doesn't say anything at all for a long time, just fiddles with the hem of his shirt, worrying it in his fingers. "Look," he finally says, but he doesn't look up at Harry when he speaks. "I'm sorry the mood is, like, basically the opposite of sexy," he continues, raising his eyes to Harry at the end. "But we should probably get this done. Or Liam will kill us both."_ _ _ _

____There are still a dozen things Harry feels they need to clear up, but Louis isn't wrong about needing to move forward. People are bound to come looking for them soon to make sure they're all clothed and fed and ready to be transported, and if they show up with Harry still missing his penis, Liam's ire is absolutely the last thing they'll have to worry about._ _ _ _

____"Right, okay," he says, pulling in a breath as he sits back on the bed, cross-legged with his hands in his lap. His gaze wanders down the length of Louis' body, taking in the stretch of cotton across his chest and belly, the snug fit of his trousers around his thighs. Harry suddenly feels incredibly naked, which isn't too weird considering he _is_ , but it's not comfortable and freeing like normal. He just feels vulnerable. _ _ _ _

____Louis hesitates for a second before climbing onto the bed, still fully clothed, frowning down at the dark spot inches from his hand. There's no telling whether it's Harry's mess or Niall's, and he really doesn't want Louis thinking about it too much, so he quickly scrambles to his feet to pull up the duvet, Louis shifting to make room for it without a word. It's not as soft as the sheets, material a bit scratchy under his skin as Harry lays on his side to face Louis, but it's better than having the evidence of him and Niall so blatant._ _ _ _

____Not that Harry really _regrets_ anything they'd done. Not at all. It'd actually been pretty incredible and there's still a lingering _something_ there Harry has no idea how to put into words. But Louis is here now; Louis is here and he wants this. And he loves Harry, he said so himself, he's in love with Harry._ _ _ _

____Smiling just a little, Harry scoots closer, reaching out to touch Louis' shirt again. "I think, like. As long as you're touching me somehow when I come, it should work," he says, carefully keeping silent on how exactly he knows that. "So it's okay if, uhm. If you can't get hard."_ _ _ _

____Louis arches an eyebrow, lips quirking. "I don't think getting hard will be a problem, Hazza."_ _ _ _

____"Well, I mean. You said yourself this body isn't…"_ _ _ _

____He trails off as Louis takes his wrist to guide his hand downward, swallowing tightly when he feels the familiar warmth of Louis' half hard cock through his trousers. "Oh," he whispers, and Louis shifts so he can press his palm over the back of Harry's hand, cupping it over his groin and rubbing forward into the hollow of Harry's fingers._ _ _ _

____"You still smell like you," Louis says, and his voice is already a little rough. "And you have the same eyes."_ _ _ _

____Harry wants to say something, make a joke or poke fun, but he can't really make his brain function while he has a handful of Louis' dick, even through Louis' bottoms. He does his best to wrap his fingers around Louis through the fabric, squeezing him, and this is more than familiar, touching Louis this way. Even the way Louis reacts is the same as always, the little huff of his breath, the way his eyes flutter as he fights to keep them open. Even if his body is screwed up forever and he'll constantly switch back and forth from male to female for the rest of his life, at least Harry knows he can make Louis feel good with his hands._ _ _ _

____"Harry," Louis says, lifting a hand to cup one of Harry's cheeks. Harry's more surprised than he maybe should be when Louis leans in and brushes a kiss to Harry's mouth. It's tentative and gentler than usual, but Harry doesn't mind, especially when Louis doesn't back off, pushing deeper as his tongue finds its way past Harry's lips._ _ _ _

____Harry lets go of Louis so he can wrap his arms around Louis' neck, pulling them closer together. They kiss for a long moment without breaking, Louis' hands on Harry's back, bodies flush from chest to knee. Harry can feel Louis' cock against his belly, and from where he is it's almost like nothing at all has changed. He can feel his breasts bumped up against Louis' chest, but he's getting sort of used to how they feel by now. He's just glad it doesn't seem to be bothering Louis too much._ _ _ _

____He doesn't resist when Louis moves and starts to guide him to lay down on his back, just lets himself be maneuvered, shifting his legs apart when Louis overlaps them to slot one thigh between Harry's as he kisses down the side of Harry's neck. Louis is rocking against him, rubbing his erection against Harry's upper leg, and he can feel his body reacting in a way that's still weird but now expected, a warm wetness blooming at the center of him. A minute ago he wasn't sure he even wanted Louis to touch him, but now all he can think about is how bad he wants Louis inside him._ _ _ _

____It's a little maddening, actually. Harry's lost count of how many times he's come in the past 48 hours and he's started to wonder if there's a limit on how long he can be actively turned on. Though if Louis is involved somehow, he really sort of doubts it. He feels warm all over, loose and a bit sore as he clings to Louis' sides, body arching on instinct now to grind against Louis' thigh._ _ _ _

____"Can we, uh. Louis, can I," Harry tugs at Louis shirt a little more insistently, gasps as Louis' lips brush the sensitive skin just below his ear. "Fuck, _please_. Please, let me get you naked."_ _ _ _

____Louis responds with a low growl that shudders down Harry's spine, his eyes dark as he pulls back enough to tug his shirt off over his head. Immediately, Harry lifts his hands to smooth over the bared skin, thumbs brushing his nipples and drawing him down, head tipped back to meet Louis' lips as Harry arches up into him. The feel of his breasts against Louis' bare skin is even better than he's expecting and Harry winds his arms tight around Louis' middle, licking deeper into Louis' mouth, shivering when Louis bites at his bottom lip._ _ _ _

____As absolutely incredible as it had been with Niall, it's undeniably _more_ with Louis and, with a shock, Harry realizes Louis still has no idea how Harry feels. Not completely._ _ _ _

____"Fuck, Lou," he manages, shivering as he pushes at Louis' shoulder enough to get some space between them._ _ _ _

____"What? Shit, did that hurt? Sorry, I'm–"_ _ _ _

____He cuts off as Harry shakes his head, one hand sinking into the short, soft strands of Louis' hair. "I love you. Meant to say before, but I just. And I want you to know. I do."_ _ _ _

____Louis' concerned expression flitters into confusion for half a second before it clears into a smile, the force of it making the heat in Harry's belly swell. "Kinda got that impression, actually. But uh… It's really nice to hear it."_ _ _ _

____"I love you," Harry says again, quiet but more firm, more sure, dragging his thumb along the curve of Louis' jaw._ _ _ _

____"Jesus, you really are a girl," Louis replies, his tone so utterly fond that Harry can't even pretend to be offended, just grins wide and bright as he pulls Louis into another kiss, this one messy and hungry and utterly demanding._ _ _ _

____His whole body rocks upward in one swift motion, one hand gripping Louis' side as he rolls them over, Louis letting out a surprised huff of a laugh as Harry swings a leg over his hips and grabs his wrists, holding them against the pillow. "Still me," he says, low and full of intent before cupping Louis' jaw with one hand again. Harry holds him in place as he kisses him deep and slow and just exactly as they've done hundreds of times before in the dark of night, hushed and secret and in their own safe, little bubble._ _ _ _

____Louis reaches up to hold Harry's head as they kiss, sinking deep and easing back, licking behind each other's teeth and sucking each other's lips in a rhythm they've been developing for months. Louis' hands start to roam, down to Harry's shoulders and then his hips, holding him as Louis bucks up against him from underneath. It makes Harry growl, because usually this would be Louis' cock against his taint, but this time it's right up against Harry's cunt, raw and sensitive where Louis' trousers rub at him._ _ _ _

____"Off," Harry pants, lips still against Louis' mouth. "Get them off," he tries to clarify, his head spinning, dizzy with want._ _ _ _

____Louis looks confused, staring up at Harry with dark eyes, his pink, kiss-swollen lips parted. Harry makes a sound of frustration and shifts back, groping for Louis' waistband himself, tugging his bottoms down, pants coming along with them. Louis finally clues in and moves to help, lifting his bum off the bed as Harry pulls the tangle of clothing down, bending his knees and moving his legs until he's finally as naked as Harry's been this entire time._ _ _ _

____There are a million things Harry wants to do, things he's been missing, some that he wants to show Louis that are new to this body. But they don't have time, and the last thing they need is for Liam to come round before they're done and ruin the moment. So Harry just climbs back up Louis' body, straddling him again, but this time when he seats himself, Louis' bare dick presses up against his pussy and he groans, grinding down against it._ _ _ _

____Louis tenses under him, and though a breathless moan works its way free of his lips, his expression looks a little unsettled, his hands pressing down hard on Harry's hips to keep him still._ _ _ _

____"What's wrong?" Harry asks, and he's a little terrified the answer is going to be Louis changing his mind, telling Harry he doesn't want anything to do with his weird girl parts._ _ _ _

____"We should…" Louis starts, then he tips his head toward the bedside table. "Do we still have condoms in there?"_ _ _ _

____It's not at all what Harry's expecting, and he blinks for a moment, stunned. They hadn't ended up using a condom the first time, even though they'd been sure to have them. Harry was a virgin, of course, and Louis' sexual past had been pretty selective, so they weren't really concerned with Harry catching anything. Of course now Harry's had sex with Niall too, and even though they're both well aware of Niall's previous virginity, Louis must feel like he's Niall's sloppy seconds._ _ _ _

____"Yeah," Harry replies, then swallows around the lump in his throat that makes his voice sound a little weak. "But, Niall and I, I mean, he was–"_ _ _ _

____"No, it's not that," Louis interrupts. "It's, like. You're a girl now. And I don't, like." Harry must be looking exceptionally stricken, because Louis laughs, shaking his head. "I wouldn't want to knock you up," he explains, still grinning, and Harry's so relieved he laughs out loud._ _ _ _

____"Oh, I don't know," he jokes, shifting up to tug the door open. "Might not be the worst thing. Our child would be really cute."_ _ _ _

____"Yes, because if a member of One Direction spontaneously turning into a girl isn't news enough, we absolutely must add teenage pregnancy to it."_ _ _ _

____Still grinning, Harry grabs a condom and tosses it onto Louis' chest before shutting the drawer. He settles back, resting on Louis' lower belly now, fully aware of how wet he is between his legs and how it's smearing on Louis' warm skin._ _ _ _

____"The Daily Mail would think it's Christmas," Harry grins, rolling his hips in a gentle grind as his hands curve around Louis' rib-cage._ _ _ _

____Louis' eyes flash darker and he props himself up onto his elbows, grabbing the foil packet off his chest. "Daily Mail would just give up and pack it in. No use hoping for a better story, so what's the point?"_ _ _ _

____"Don't think they'd stick it through for the birth?" Harry asks, shifting a little lower to feel Louis' cock nudge between his ass cheeks._ _ _ _

____Louis bites his lip._ _ _ _

____"Our kid would be a bigger deal than a royal baby," Harry continues, reaching back to flatten his palm to Louis' dick, holding it against him, his hips still rocking. "And we could make Simon the godfather."_ _ _ _

____Louis actually chokes out a laugh then, falling back onto the bed as he grabs at Harry's thighs. "That's quite enough, thank you," he decides, eyes glittering as he beams up at Harry. "Uncle Simon is the ultimate boner-killer."_ _ _ _

____"Oh, it's _Simon_ that's the final straw," Harry laughs, letting go of Louis' cock to snatch the condom from him, fingers slipping only a little as he rips open the packet. "You're good with all the baby talk, though."_ _ _ _

____Louis shrugs. "I like kids."_ _ _ _

____He's smiling as he says it, teeth white and eyes dark, but there's just enough in Louis' tone to make Harry wonder. It's ridiculous to seriously think about having kids right now; they still are kids as his mother is so keen to frequently remind him. But, for just a second or two, Harry lets himself consider the notion, a future with Louis outside the band, a family with him. Kids. Kids they could, like, make together. Because it might actually be possible in this body._ _ _ _

____Holy shit._ _ _ _

____Letting out a shaky breath, he nods then. "Yeah, me too," he says and the smile Louis gives him is bright and warm and knowing. Louis pushes up abruptly to kiss him, noses knocking almost painfully, and Harry whines into it, momentarily forgetting the condom as he grabs the back of Louis' neck with his other hand and surrenders completely._ _ _ _

____But Louis hasn't forgotten it seems, breaking the kiss sooner than Harry's expecting and murmuring, "Budge up a bit," as he takes the flimsy piece of rubber from Harry's fingers._ _ _ _

____Shakily, Harry lifts up, keeps his head ducked to watch as Louis reaches down between Harry's thighs to smooth the condom over his dick. Arousal curls hot and tight in Harry's gut, sparked by a flash of desperately wanting that hand wrapped around his own cock and then remembering that he currently doesn't have one. It's confusing and a little unnerving, but then Louis lets go of himself to graze his fingers along Harry's cunt, fingers easily sliding through the slick of his folds, and Harry forgets almost entirely, eyes rolling back as he lets out a shuddered gasp._ _ _ _

____"Do you want it this way?" Louis asks, his fingers stroking over Harry's core, fingertips finding Harry's clit and nudging at it. As much as he's never really liked thinking about Louis with his past girlfriends, there does appear to be advantages to having a lover experienced in these things._ _ _ _

____"What, what way?" Harry asks a little dreamily, his basic thought processes knocked offline by the way Louis is fondling him._ _ _ _

____"Like, do you want to be on top?" Louis clarifies. "Or would you rather be under me?"_ _ _ _

____Harry's brain whites-out all the way in the face of that decision. Because he's never been fucked by Louis, not properly, and as much as he likes the idea of staying right here and riding him, he's equally eager to feel Louis take control, holding him down and fucking him. He wants _both_ , but he's not sure they'll have time for that, not right now, and he doesn't know what's going to happen after this. Will Louis not want to have sex with him again, knowing what will happen if he does? Or will he be okay doing it, since now they how to change him back?_ _ _ _

____"Haz?" Louis nudges, his fingers squeezing Harry's thighs. "Not to rush you, but…"_ _ _ _

____"Right, sorry," Harry replies with a laugh. "I, um. I'm not sure–"_ _ _ _

____"Christ, Harry," Louis complains, but he's fond and loving in his tone. His hands shift up to Harry's waist, and Harry thinks at first that Louis's going to just pull Harry onto him. But instead Louis sits up, somehow managing to get his legs under him with enough leverage to push Harry over backward, coming down between Harry's legs._ _ _ _

____"If you don't like this, we can switch," Louis says, ducking to kiss the side of Harry's neck. He kisses along Harry's collarbone, then down between his breasts, his hands braced against Harry's ribs. He laughs a little softly as he draws back, his breath tickling Harry's skin._ _ _ _

____"Didn't notice you'd kept the extra nipples before," Louis explains, and Harry swats at Louis' head gently._ _ _ _

____"Get on with it, will you?" he teases, and Louis gives him a dark, smoldering look._ _ _ _

____"Look who's suddenly in a hurry," he replies, dipping his head to bite at Harry's belly before he pushes back onto his knees. He anchors one hand on Harry's hip, shifting his weight as he reaches down with the other to angle his cock, eyes lowered as he guides himself into Harry's cunt._ _ _ _

____This isn't the first time he's felt this, but somehow it's like it's brand new. It's his first time with Louis like this, and even though it's not how he wanted it to be, it's still emotionally overwhelming to feel Louis inside him, pushing carefully, steadily deeper._ _ _ _

____"Oh God, you're…" Louis starts to say, but then he buries his face in the side of Harry's neck, groaning as he nudges the last few centimeters, completely inside._ _ _ _

____"I'm what?" Harry asks, and his voice sounds thin even to his own ears._ _ _ _

____"You're so _wet_ ," Louis answers, his mouth shifted up next to Harry's ear. The words make Harry shudder and clench down and Louis moans, his entire body tensing on top of Harry's. "You're wet and you're so _tight_. Fuck, Harry," he says, punctuating it with a barely-there thrust, and Harry whines as he digs his nails into Louis' shoulders, holding on tight._ _ _ _

____"Okay?" Louis asks, his tone softer, laced with concern, and Harry nods quickly, biting back a whimper as he smooths a hand down Louis' back. He tilts his hips and tries to spread his legs wider. "Y-you can, again. Do that again."_ _ _ _

____He can feel the stretch of Louis' smile against his neck followed by a warm huff of air as Louis eases his hips back and then slides in again, slower and deeper this time, the drag of it making Harry's head drop back and a moan catch in his throat. Again, he's struck by how different it feels than it had with Niall, how much more intense, and can't help wondering if it's due to Louis' level of experience or to Harry being so desperately, stupidly in love with him. Louis moves in him so easily, quickly latching onto a rhythm Harry has no problem sinking into, one leg curled around Louis' hips as he arches._ _ _ _

____"Holy fuck," Louis murmurs, the words melting into a strangled sort of laugh as pulls back enough to meet Harry's eyes. "Can't believe how good you feel."_ _ _ _

____Harry answers with a whimper, squeezing with his thighs as he slides one hand up into the hair at the nape of Louis' neck. "Is this, how did it feel when I fucked you? Was it like this? Did it feel like this?"_ _ _ _

____Louis laughs again, his hips punching forward. "Dunno," he breathes into Harry's mouth and Harry tips his head just enough to suck a quick kiss to his bottom lip. "Haven't got a pussy to, like, compare."_ _ _ _

____"Did it feel like, like you were being split open?" Harry asks, voice catching with every thrust. It's not quite enough, he knows. He needs to touch himself, needs to get a hand between them to rub at his clit. But he likes this too, just having Louis on him and in him, just the crush of his body pounding into Harry. "Split, but like. In a good way. Split and full up and, like, **God**_ , Louis, wish I could do this to you, wish I could fuck your pussy, show you how good this is."_ _ _

___"Christ," Louis breathes, eyes wide and dark as he shoves forward, fucking in deep enough to make Harry's entire back arch, eyes falling shut as he bites down on his lip. "Fuck, I wish you could too," he murmurs, his voice tight as he continues to thrust, one hand curving over the top of Harry's head and using it for leverage to pull himself in harder. "But I could, I could show you," Louis goes on, breath huffing out of him. "Show you what it was like for me. Could do it right now, even."_ _ _

___Harry's having a difficult enough time following what Louis is saying without him being vague, and he digs his fingertips into the bunching muscles of Louis' shoulders. "What... how?" he asks, breathless, and Louis smiles, panting._ _ _

___"Up your ass," Louis answers, and he pushes into Harry even harder when he says it. But it's not the action that causes Harry's eyes to roll back; he's had Louis' fingers in him that way before, but not his dick. And the fact that the mere idea of it makes Harry's insides go molten probably means something._ _ _

___"Fucking _god_ ," Harry moans, wrapping his legs higher around Louis' hips. "If we had more time…" he adds and Louis laughs._ _ _

___"We'll have loads of time for that later, love," he says, and Harry whimpers before he can stop himself. Louis wants more with him, wants to fuck him again. And he doesn't clarify if he means with Harry as a boy or a girl, but Harry's starting to think maybe it doesn't matter anymore. Maybe Louis will want him no matter what, even if he spends his whole life living with this curse._ _ _

___"Darling," Louis pants, and Harry notices that Louis' movements have started to falter just a little, his body trembling. "I'd like to say I could do this forever, but you feel… You feel too good," he manages with a broken laugh. "And of the two of us, you're the one who really needs to come."_ _ _

___Harry laughs back, just as breathless. "You're never allowed to give me shit about my endurance again," he teases, but he shifts enough that he can push his hand down between them, his body jolting as his fingers find his clit. It makes his pussy tighten around Louis at the same time and Louis curses, biting down hard on his lower lip._ _ _

___"Going to fucking kill me," Louis groans, but he doesn't stop moving. "Come on, Haz. Catch up with me."_ _ _

___"Fuck," Harry whines, legs still hooked around Louis' hips as he works himself harder, circling tightly around the sensitive nub. He hasn't really had enough time to perfect this, doesn't know the best rhythm or tricks like he does with his dick, but it still feels incredible. And with Louis pounding into him, grunting with the effort as he whispers Harry's name over and over again, he knows it probably won't take too long at all._ _ _

___Louis' movements are getting more stilted by the second, the muscles in his arms straining, thick biceps holding his weight as he shoves in, closer to grinding now than actually thrusting. Harry can't take his eyes off him, drinking in all he can as pleasure coils hot in the pit of his stomach._ _ _

___"Lou," he whispers, eyes widening as he feels that familiar flare of intensity, pulsing low and insistent. "Lou, I'm gonna. I'm. Oh, _oh_." And then it explodes, grabbing at the base of his spine and shaking him, muscles clenching tight around the thick of Louis' cock as he keeps rubbing at himself, riding the wave of pleasure. "Oh fuck, I'm coming, I'm coming, Lou, I'm. Lou. Fuck, _Louis_."_ _ _

___He's still locked in the grip of it when he forces his eyes open to see Louis staring down at him, face flushed and mouth parted on a silent moan a second before his shoulders curve forward and he shoves in deep, his dick pulsing in the clench of Harry's body._ _ _

___His nerves are still vibrating as Harry drops his hand from himself to wrap his arms around Louis, clinging as he struggles to catch his breath, inhaling the heady, gorgeous scent of Louis' sweat. He feels like he's buzzing all over, floating and weighted down both at once with Louis impossibly huge inside him._ _ _

___"Holy Christ," Louis murmurs, nearly inaudible against Harry's collarbone._ _ _

___"Yeah," Harry agrees, blinking his eyes open, his heart still pounding._ _ _

___Louis shifts just a little, but doesn't pull out, his lips brushing Harry's neck. "That was mental."_ _ _

___"Yeah," Harry says again on a soft laugh. "God, I really love your dick."_ _ _

___Louis laughs breathlessly in reply, his face pressed up against Harry's throat. "Lucky for you it's not going anywhere," he says, and the secondary meaning must hit him the same time as it does Harry, because he lifts his head to look into Harry's eyes. "Not that, I'm not trying to say anything about, like," Louis starts to explain, and Harry's about to tell him it's okay, he understands, but then he starts to feel a telltale ache building in his limbs._ _ _

___"Fuck, Louis, move," he says, his voice high with panic as he pushes Louis back. Louis seems shaken and confused as Harry literally shoves him away until his cock slides free, but he doesn't have any time to explain before pain grips him. He squeezes his eyes shut and balls his fists and waits for it all to subside, thankful that it eases away just as it has every other time. His eyes are wet when he opens them, and the look on Louis' face is almost heartbreaking, pure terror written there._ _ _

___"Oh my god," Louis says, reaching out and wiping at Harry's cheek. It takes Harry a second to realize he's brushing away a tear. "I didn't know it hurt you, changing like that," Louis goes on, resting a comforting hand on Harry's knee. "I'm so sorry, Harry. I had no idea. And it's, it was so..." He shakes his head, his expression still worried. "It looked excruciating."_ _ _

___"It's not so bad," Harry says, and it's not really a lie. "Like, it only lasts a few seconds. Could be worse." Louis doesn't look convinced, so Harry cups his hand over Louis', shifting to sit up. "I mean, I've got my dick back now, haven't I?" he says, smiling flirtatiously._ _ _

___Louis can't seem to stop himself from grinning in response, and Harry's only a little surprised when Louis leans in and kisses him, wet and smacking, on his cheek. "As much as I wish I could give it a nice welcome home," Louis says with a dark smile, reaching down between Harry's thighs to cup the soft mass of Harry's cock gently, "we've got to get dressed. Before Liam has kittens."_ _ _

___"Might be worth waiting, just to see that," Harry says with a smirk, and Louis laughs._ _ _

___"You do have a point," he replies, and Harry loses himself in Louis eyes and the crinkles beside them from his smile, his white teeth and pretty pink lips. God, Harry's so in love, and despite all the shit from the last two days, he's just so perfectly happy. He never wants it to end._ _ _

___And Louis loves him _back_._ _ _

___Louis is practically beaming, his eyes locked on Harry's, and neither of them move for a long moment until Louis quickly pushes in, kissing Harry quick and sweet right on the lips. Harry laughs against it, leaning in for more, but Louis pulls away, slapping Harry's thigh lightly as he bounces off the bed._ _ _

___"We'll pick that up later, you insatiable minx," he says, grinning wide as he steps into his pants. "For now, you, your gorgeous penis, and the rest of us laddy lads have an interview to get to."_ _ _

___:::_ _ _

___Relief isn't a strong enough term for how Liam is feeling right now, sat at a table between Niall and Louis, across from Zayn and Harry. And Harry is fully back to normal now, not only just a boy again but he's laughing and joking and kicking Louis' shins beneath the table. The only thing ruining the moment is that Rebecca's sitting beside Zayn, giggling and hanging on his arm. It all serves as a very harsh reminder of just how pathetic and unrequited Liam's feelings for Zayn are, how dumb he is for letting this crush continue._ _ _

___He must be visibly moping or staring into space, because Louis elbows him in the side before ducking close to his ear, whispering, "Okay Payno?"_ _ _

___"Oh yeah, sure," he says, turning to Louis and offering a wan smile. "Just tired." It's not even a lie; he's exhausted, both physically and emotionally from the events of the last two days. Louis' mouth quirks sympathetically as he pats Liam's knee, and Liam's more than a little thankful that Louis doesn't seem interested in prying._ _ _

___The moment they're sharing is abruptly interrupted when an Oreo flies across the table and hits Louis in the chest. They both look up at Harry whose expression is a little predatory; seems like Harry might see Liam as an interloper encroaching on his territory._ _ _

___"Are you trying to start a food fight, Harold?" Louis asks, already loading up his spoon with mash._ _ _

___"Louis, no," Liam objects immediately, pushing his chair back. At his other side he sees Niall making preparations of his own, grabbing the bowl of rolls out of the middle of the table. "Niall, Louis, stop," Liam continues his protestations, standing up and putting distance between himself and what looks like could shortly be a very large mess._ _ _

___Of course none of them are listening to him, and as tired as Liam is the last thing he wants is to try and referee whatever altercation is about to erupt. Liam's not their father, he doesn't have any responsibility over the rest of the boys, even though sometimes he behaves like he does. Harry's grinning, dumping the rest of the packet of Oreos onto his plate and Liam gets up, beating a hasty retreat. His best chance of avoiding being named as an accomplice is to be as far away as possible._ _ _

___Liam finds a little cluster of plush chairs near the hotel lobby and sinks into one gratefully, closing his eyes with a sigh. He can hear shrieks coming from the room he just escaped and he can't help laughing to himself as he imagines the bedlam, One Direction the center of an all out food war. Niall and Louis are nothing if not dedicated to wreaking as much havoc as possible as often as they can._ _ _

___He doesn't think anyone noticed him leave the room so he jumps when he hears someone say his name, turning his head to find Zayn approaching him._ _ _

___"You alright?" Zayn asks, sitting down in the chair nearest Liam and reaching out to touch his knee. Liam feels his heart skip two beats at the contact and has to swallow hard before he can reply._ _ _

___"Yeah, I'm good," he says, willing his pulse to slow down. "Great, actually. Harry's a boy again, and we didn't have to explain anything to management, so I'm bloody fantastic."_ _ _

___Zayn frowns and Liam can tell he's been caught out, at least a little. He steels himself for the imminent inquisition as Zayn looks him over, his eyes shifting, gears in his head turning. But he doesn't ask anything, just stands and offers Liam a hand up._ _ _

___"Come with me," Zayn says, and Liam wouldn't be able to deny him if he wanted to, his hand sliding into Zayn's before he can even consider Zayn's request. He doesn't know where they're going, just follows Zayn dutifully, not questioning when they turn down a hallway and Zayn takes them into the toilets near the lifts._ _ _

___"What's this about?" Liam asks when Zayn guides him further into the room and puts Liam's back against the wall near the sinks._ _ _

___Zayn doesn't answer immediately, just stands before Liam and looks him in the eye for a long moment. Liam's starting to feel unnerved, and he opens his mouth to say something more when Zayn finally speaks._ _ _

___"Are you upset about me and Rebecca?" he ask, and his expression is so earnest and concerned that it makes Liam's heart ache._ _ _

___"What?" Liam responds, and his voice is almost comically high. "Why would I be upset?"_ _ _

___Zayn frowns again, and looks a little hurt as well, though Liam can't really understand why. Zayn sighs, shifting his gaze away from Liam for a moment before meeting his eyes._ _ _

___"Okay, like, since this tour started, I guess I sort of thought…" Zayn trails off, the expression on his face difficult to read, a combination of discomfort and nervousness. "It seemed like you were, like, flirting with me," he finally continues. "And I know you're seeing Danielle, but, like, she's not here and, like, sometimes the way you look at me…"_ _ _

___Zayn regards Liam expectantly as he finishes, clearly waiting for him to say something. But Liam's frozen, ice water in his veins; Zayn _knows_. He's seen the way Liam looks at him, noticed the lingering touches and the little jokes and, god, maybe he's even spotted the way Liam's body reacts sometimes when they're close._ _ _

___"Christ, you're not–" Zayn says when Liam doesn't reply. "Fuck, Liam, I'm sorry. I just, like, I thought, like, the way–"_ _ _

___"I am," Liam cuts him off, his heart hammering in his chest. "I mean, I have been. Flirting with you," he goes on, Zayn's dark, wide eyes locked on him. "I just, I guess, I really like you," he babbles, sounding like a massive idiot. "I really, really like you, Zayn. But you... We're both boys and I don't know if you're into that – I don't even know if _I'm_ into it – but sometimes I look at you and I just, I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you all the time, really, and sometimes when we're alone, or, like, when you touch me…" He can't even finish what he's trying to say, his voice shaking as his body starts to tremble, Zayn staring at him, pinning him to the wall._ _ _

___"Zayn," he tries to go on, but there's almost no power behind his words. He's not sure how he's going to fix this now, their friendship, everything he's ruined by being so stupidly obvious. He can't lose Zayn, can't let this get between them and push them apart. He won't survive._ _ _

___The next thing that happens is like an amazing, unbelievable dream. Zayn steps forward, bringing them close enough that Liam can feel Zayn exhale hot against his face. He barely registers Zayn's hands when they cup his jaw, but somehow his eyes close automatically when Zayn presses in and finds Liam's lips with his own, mouths overlapped sweetly. It lasts maybe seven seconds, but Liam gasps like he's just come up out of the water when Zayn breaks off, both of them wide-eyed and panting._ _ _

___"Liam," Zayn says, little more than a breath, but that's all Liam lets him get out before he lunges back in, his arms going around Zayn's neck as his tongue brushes its way past Zayn's lips. Zayn meets him without hesitation, pushing into the embrace with enough fervor that he crushes Liam's back into the tile. They kiss and kiss and kiss until both of them are breathless, Liam's lips swollen and damp and stinging in the most incredible way, Zayn's just as red and shiny and kiss bruised._ _ _

___"You worry too much," Zayn says, tone low and husky in a way that would make Liam hard if he wasn't already there._ _ _

___"I know," Liam admits with a coy smile, his cheeks heating under the weight of Zayn's smoldering gaze._ _ _

___"It's just me," Zayn replies, thick, dark eyelashes fanning against his cheeks as he flicks his eyes down to Liam's mouth then back up again. "You can always be honest with me. Don't be so worried, Lee."_ _ _

___"I won't," Liam says, then adds sheepishly, "I'll try."_ _ _

___"No, promise me," Zayn counters, bumping their noses together. "Promise you won't keep things from me anymore."_ _ _

___Liam licks his lips, his heart thudding in his chest, feeling giddy and shaken in the best way ever, locked in Zayn's arms, held close in his embrace. "I promise," he says, and Zayn smiles, wide and bright._ _ _

___"Good," he replies, his grin shifting into something dark and lustful. "Not nearly done with you yet."_ _ _

___Liam has to bite his lip around his own smile, his face burning with arousal. "I'd hoped you weren't," he replies sweetly before tugging Zayn back in, lips meeting heatedly in another deep kiss._ _ _

___:::_ _ _

___The food fight's pretty much over before the hotel staff can intervene, Harry laughing as he picks gobs of mashed potato out of his hair, smacking at Niall's hand when he reaches over like he's going to take a bite. Louis swipes some Oreo cream off Harry's cheek with a finger and waggles his eyebrows as he licks it clean. Harry feels his face flush with warmth at the sight, and he has to look away, biting his lip as he watches Niall's hand sneak into his vision to grab a cookie off his plate, one of the few not lost in the onslaught._ _ _

___"I'm a mess. Jesus," Louis grumbles, but he's still grinning wide, his eyes bright and cheeks pink as he pulls a square of butter off his fringe._ _ _

___"That has nothing to do with the food, love," Rebecca remarks. Amazingly she's still spotless, her long nails halving a roll before she takes a bite. It's only then that Harry even realizes Zayn's left. Huh._ _ _

___"Right, well, I need the loo," Louis says, sparing Rebecca only a quick glance before flashing a warm smile at Harry. It almost looks like an invitation and Harry's a second away from following, already picturing what all they might get up to under the pretense of cleaning up. But then Louis only gives him a wink and darts away, already gone._ _ _

___Niall steals another Oreo._ _ _

___"Hey," Harry says, though he's still feeling too light to really be upset, skin buzzing with what he can only describe as utter contentment._ _ _

___"So you and Lou then?" Niall says, crumbs falling from his lips before he wipes them away with the back of his hand._ _ _

___Harry darts a glance at Rebecca, but she's already pushing up from the table, walking away with her phone pressed to her ear and taking another bite of her dinner roll. When he looks back to Niall he feels that buzz under his skin falter, sinking into something a little closer to guilt._ _ _

___But, whether it's because of the food fight or the sweets or something else entirely, Niall doesn't appear that upset._ _ _

___"You could've told me, you know."_ _ _

___Harry gives a one-shouldered shrug and runs a hand through his hair, catching a few bits of bread. "Couldn't, actually," he says, flicking the crumbs onto his plate. "Like, there wasn't much to say. I didn't think Louis wanted anyone to know."_ _ _

___"Knew you liked him, didn't you?" Niall still doesn't seem angry, just curious as he chews his biscuit, swallowing it down with a sip of water._ _ _

___Harry thinks on it for a moment before finally nodding. "Yeah. But, it wasn't as simple as all that."_ _ _

___"Dunno," Niall says with an easy shrug. "Sometimes it is."_ _ _

___It comes off so matter-of-fact, like it's just something Harry should know. And maybe it is; maybe it really is that simple. He almost wants to argue the point, mention that it wasn't just his secret to tell, that he couldn't have answered any follow-up questions after that sort of admission, but he reckons Niall's right._ _ _

___And he still feels guilty._ _ _

___"You know, like, that stuff we did," Harry says hesitantly, picking at a spot of crusted vegetable on his plate. "It wasn't… I didn't want you to be Louis or anything. It wasn't like that."_ _ _

___"You'd have preferred him, though," Niall says, grabbing the last half of Oreo off Harry's plate and popping it into his mouth. Harry can't really deny it; he'd wanted it to be Louis, if only because he _always_ wants it to be Louis. It still doesn't feel as cut-and-dry as that, but before he can say as much, Niall shrugs again, mouth full as he continues. " 's okay. I get it. I mean, it was good and all, you had very nice boobies. But I kinda wish you'd been Demi Lovato."_ _ _

___Harry blinks, the weight in his gut twisting and then lifting all at once as he lets out a surprised bark of laughter. It's really not the same at all, but he doesn't doubt now that Niall truly isn't bothered._ _ _

___"Just think of me as practice then," he says, still grinning wide and bright, Niall's smile growing in turn._ _ _

___"Right, I've got insider's knowledge now!" Niall replies, and it's clear this is the first time he's thought of this. "You and me, we could be, like, sex gods! Holy fuck, Haz."_ _ _

___It's an exciting notion, Harry has to admit, even if his own status might be reserved for just one other person. He can't help but wonder how much Louis might come to appreciate Harry's new-found ability now that they know how to control it. After all, Louis's never really made it much of a secret that he enjoys girls as much as he does boys, and just the idea sets Harry's mind wandering in the best way. He bites at his bottom lip as he considers it, ducks his head to pick the drying crumbles of mashed potatoes off his shirt, and startles when a hand suddenly drops to his shoulder, squeezing._ _ _

___It's Louis, still as messy as when he'd left, but his eyes are bright, sparkling with that mischief Harry's found himself falling for time and again since the day they met. Louis' hand wanders up into the curls at the nape of Harry's neck, tugging lightly as he says, "Lads, you will not _believe_ who I just found snogging in the loo."_ _ _

___:::_ _ _

___"Zayn, mate, you're going to have to face it," Liam says, reclined on the sofa in the lounge area of the bus. "It's gone."_ _ _

___From the floor at Liam's feet Zayn huffs in irritation. "I swear I had it yesterday," he says, sorting through the clothes strewn across across the carpet, everything pulled out of his suitcase as he searches._ _ _

___"Maybe it fell out of your pocket when we stopped for dinner," Liam offers, and Zayn sighs, dropping his hands into his lap in defeat._ _ _

___"Probably right," he says as he begins to chuck his clothes back into his bag haphazardly. "S'not the end of the world, I guess. Just really liked the thing is all."_ _ _

___Liam frowns. It's true that he never much liked Zayn's weird little Brigid's cross, but he dislikes seeing Zayn upset even more. "Maybe we can find you another one?"_ _ _

___"Yeah maybe," Zayn replies, flipping the lid on his suitcase closed and fighting to zip it around the mountain of unfolded garments inside._ _ _

___A moment later Niall appears from back by the bunks, crossing to the couch and landing heavily at Liam's side._ _ _

___"S'up Nialler?" Liam asks, tossing his arm around Niall's shoulders._ _ _

___"They're at it _again_ ," Niall replies, sliding sideways to rest his weight against Liam's side._ _ _

___There's no question as to whom he's referring; Louis and Harry have been going at it like rabbits since the last time they were in London and making no attempt to hide it. Of course, there's really no point in doing so when Harry emerges from behind the bunk curtain or toilet or hotel door with different body parts than he'd had going in. It's not like any of the lads aren't going to know what he's been up to._ _ _

___Still, Liam can't help wishing they'd be a bit more discreet sometimes. If only for Niall's sake._ _ _

___"Could throw a bucket of ice water on them again," Zayn suggests and Liam grins but shakes his head with a sigh. He'd lost his very favourite pair of trainers to a razorblade care of Louis' retaliation and he's not really looking forward to finding out what else Louis's capable of ruining._ _ _

___" 's not fair," Niall whines, drawing his knees up and burying his face in Liam's side. "They can fuck as much as they want. Sure, I'm happy for 'em, but I've got blue balls the size of melons and unless I want to have tits again – which I _don't_ , thanks very much – I can never have sex. Ever. In my whole entire life."_ _ _

___"At least you won't die a virgin?" Liam suggests, lips twitching in what he hopes is a helpful smile._ _ _

___Niall scowls. "This is definitely not better. At least before I didn't know what I was missing."_ _ _

___"Could do if you did it with someone who knew about the whole curse thing," Zayn offers, and when Liam meets his eyes he sees something very determined in Zayn's expression. "Have sex, I mean," Zayn clarifies._ _ _

___"Only people who know are you lot," Niall responds with a huff, still curled practically into Liam's lap._ _ _

___"Not good enough for you then?" Zayn replies and it strikes Liam a little strangely because he can't tell if Zayn's joking or not._ _ _

___"You're being serious?" Niall asks, sitting up, obviously experiencing the same conundrum as Liam._ _ _

___Zayn shrugs, but it doesn't read as flippant at all. He looks like he's actually offering something, and it makes Liam's insides twist unpleasantly._ _ _

___He and Zayn have been fooling around a bit lately themselves, though they're doing a much better job of keeping it quiet than Harry and Louis. They haven't gone very far, mostly because it's uncharted territory for both of them, but maybe Liam's wrong in believing that Zayn's okay with going slow. Maybe he wants more than Liam's giving him and thinks Niall could be the one to do it. Or maybe now that he's not afraid of being with another boy it doesn't matter who it is in bed with him._ _ _

___Whatever it is, the idea that Zayn would be okay with tossing Liam out in favour of Niall makes Liam jealous and hurt. He thought they had something between them, if only just mutual crushes, but maybe Liam's just being naive._ _ _

___Liam doesn't notice that his attention has shifted inward until he feels Zayn's fingers against his ankle, Zayn's hand wrapping around beneath the leg of his trousers._ _ _

___"Might have some room for you in our bed, s'what I mean," Zayn says very carefully, his voice low, and Liam feels Niall's eyes on him, turns to meet Niall's wide gaze._ _ _

___"Is there anyone in this band _not_ shagging each other?!" Niall asks, his tone a little shrill._ _ _

___"Clearly not!" Louis shouts from the back of the bus, the sound followed by a peel of giggles from Harry._ _ _

___Liam doesn't know whether to be amused or scandalized, Zayn's fingers still warm and sure where they're wrapped around his ankle as Niall pulls away entirely, leaving his side oddly cold. He almost wants to comment about how this is not at all what he'd expected when he'd decided to give X Factor a second shot. But to be perfectly honest, it's only one more thing added to the list, and it's really quite a long one at this point._ _ _

___He doesn't have much time to say anything anyway as Harry and Louis both come bounding into the lounge only seconds later, flushed and grinning, their clothes obviously hastily reassembled._ _ _

___"You smell like sex," Zayn grouses, clearly trying to appear more put out than he actually is._ _ _

___"I smell like Louis," Harry argues happily and then lifts his shirt. "But look!"_ _ _

___Liam frowns as he silently counts Harry's nipples, shaking his head when he reaches four.  
"I don't–"_ _ _

___"Wait, are you serious?" Niall interrupts, eyes wide and hopeful._ _ _

___Still grinning, Harry tugs his pants down to show off his willy and Liam groans as he turns away. It's far from the first time he's seen Harry's dick, but there's a difference between catching a glance after Harry's showered and Harry proudly waving it around after he's just finished fucking Louis._ _ _

___"Did you– Shit, Harry, if you're fuckin' with me, I'll throw you off this bus, I'm not kidding."_ _ _

___"I'm not," Harry replies, looking very briefly hurt, and Louis responds at the same time with, "There was an orgasm. A lovely one."_ _ _

___"That will never not be TMI, mate," Zayn murmurs._ _ _

___"Wait, so… You didn't change?" Liam wonders aloud, eyes wide as he finally gets it. "That's, like," he fumbles, gesturing at Harry's torso. "That's how you started?"_ _ _

___"I've been boob-free all day."_ _ _

___"Which is a bit of a pity, honestly," Louis supplies, hastily adding, "What? You've got really nice breasts!" when Harry throws him a quick frown._ _ _

___"Does this mean it's broken then?" Zayn asks. "The curse?"_ _ _

___"Looks like it," Harry answers just as Louis replies, "We should really test it again, just to be sure."_ _ _

___"Fuck, test it on me!" Niall cuts in, throwing himself against the back of the couch in exasperation. "I can't take it anymore, surrounded you nymphos."_ _ _

___Harry, to Liam's surprise, just shrugs, though Louis doesn't look very convinced himself._ _ _

___"Have we hit the orgy stage already?" Zayn asks with a bit of a grin._ _ _

___"No," Liam and Louis respond in unison, and Louis grabs Harry's hand, dragging him back toward the bunks, murmuring, "Be right back."_ _ _

___Niall groans, crossing his arms over his chest and letting his head fall back. "You all suck," he complains, causing Zayn to mutter under his breath, "Would if you'd let us."_ _ _

___"You really want to?" Liam asks Zayn quietly, and Zayn's fingers stroke Liam's anklebone absently._ _ _

___"Dunno," Zayn answers, and Liam can tell he's being completely honest, no hint of humour behind his words. "Might be nice, like," he goes on, voice soft. "And I don't like that we're leaving him out, you know?"_ _ _

___"I'm sitting right here," Niall says, head still lolled back._ _ _

___"Don't like leaving _you_ out then," Zayn amends, rolling his eyes. "Just tryin' to be considerate is all."_ _ _

___"Ah, considerate. Really know how to charm a guy," Niall responds testily, tipping his head to look at Zayn._ _ _

___"Well, s'not like you're not cute," Zayn adds, holding Niall's gaze. "You know we all think so."_ _ _

___Liam can barely catch his breath; he honestly has no idea what's going on here, if Niall and Zayn are playing or if they're really negotiating a threeway. Liam's never even had one of those with two girls before, with _anyone_ before, and he's not quite sure how he feels about it. From the expression on Niall's face Liam can tell he's not really sure either._ _ _

___No one says anything after that, and Liam keeps trying to think of some way to break the tension, a joke or a story or anything, but all he can do is picture Zayn and Niall kissing. Stranger still is that it doesn't upset him, not this time, because he knows he'd get to be there, too._ _ _

___A moment later Louis returns, face flushed and fringe sticking to the sweat on his forehead. His lips are really pink and a little swollen and Liam wishes to god he didn't know exactly what that means._ _ _

___"It's broken," Louis confirms, wiping his hair out of his eyes. "I can confirm."_ _ _

___He sounds breathless, like he's definitely been working hard, and Liam really doesn't even want to know how red his own face must be right now._ _ _

___"Please tell me you've cleaned up back there," Zayn says. Once again, Liam can only marvel at Zayn's apparent apathy regarding this whole bizarre situation._ _ _

___Louis bares his teeth in a grin. "No need."_ _ _

___"Oh my god," Niall groans then and Liam glances over to see him sprawled out, head back and eyes closed, one hand resting on the crotch of his jeans. "Zayn, I am two seconds away from taking you up on your offer."_ _ _

___"Wow," Liam says, though he's not even aware he's said anything at all until Zayn gives him a warm smirk._ _ _

___" _Right_! Well," Louis interrupts with a loud clap. "Think I'm gonna leave you pervy lot to it. Make sure to use protection, lube is your friend, don't do anything I wouldn't do, yadda yadda yadda." He gives a wave as he disappears down the hall, "Cheers, lads!"_ _ _

___And then it's just Liam, Zayn, Niall, and a weighted stretch of silence before finally Niall sighs, head tipping faintly to the side._ _ _

___"So," he says. "Is one of you gonna blow me or what?"_ _ _

___ _

___End._ _ _


End file.
